The Wounded Bleed
by linecallit
Summary: (Set in Three Years) Wounds bleed, even the ones not left on the skin, sometimes they bleed by blood, and others they bleed out in nightmares and hidden tears. Can two wounded souls clash into healing waters, or will they ignore the others pain and allow their wounds to fester? [Bulma , Vegeta] Comments are Welcome.
1. Chapter 1

After a re-upload that went haywire I once again had to delete and repeat. Hopefully this time it works out better! Thanks!

Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used, or DB,DBZ,DBGT as a whole.

Pale hands reached out, skin an ashen grey, so very pale that the outlines of blue could be seen from her veins, which worked to pump blood to her heart which was beating away feverishly in her chest. She was so close to finishing what some would call the most genius leap in space and time for Earthlings history, her pale hands stayed steady as she typed out the equations needed to determine just how well this ship would be able to cut through space, faster than any previous ship had, including the one they had taken to Namek.

How long had she trapped herself away in the lab, it felt like mere days for her, but she knew it had been weeks only because the piling up of dirty coffee mugs was beginning to invade over her desk and onto the floor beside the trash can. An impressive amount of ignored text that vibrated now and again from her neglected cell phone, and her parent's constant worrisome check -ins. mostly from her mother, her father had come to respect her need for privacy even though they still didn't know what had their daughter in this state of grind stonework. Her father could relate to shutting yourself away in the name of scientific breakthrough.

After all, there had been many nights when the lavender-haired man had neglected his family and friends for sleepless nights fueled by caffeine and nicotine to help him reach beyond the depths of intelligence to pure legacy. But he was unknown to the fact his daughters leap into the depths of pure legacy had been more like a jump in mental suicide. She had locked herself up in the lab to escape the over barring memories of what had happened a couple weeks before.

Letting herself into her, then still beloved, boyfriend's apartment to drop off his surprise for their anniversary. The way Puar had squeaked in horror seeing the blue-haired beauty entering the apartment, and the other squeaks coming from the bedroom, the low moans and grunts both feminine and male mingled together in pure ecstasy. She had only caught a glimpse from the cracked door of the bedroom, his toned tanned legs tangled with the fit tanned legs of the female, their clothing splashed about the room like awkward spills of brightly covered cheap paint. Knock off brand Victoria Secret underwear dangling from the ankle of the woman who sounded near the edge. That had been enough for her, enough for her to turn and leave with the weight of years wasted crushing down on her shoulders. She hadn't even heard Paurs half-assed "Sorry".

She shoved away from the desk, the sound of her chair screaming in protest as it was dragged against the solid concrete floor of her lab. A few coffee mugs crashing to the floor as she jolted her desk, her brows raising as she bit her lower lip hard, she couldn't concentrate on the numbers in front of her if her mind kept wanting to flee back to that awkward and heart-tearing moment. Looking at herself she curled a lip in disgust at her surroundings she was always a bit of a slob but this was too much even for her. Piles of papers, folders, spilled from the desk onto the floor, huge amounts of coffee stains here and there and an overflowing ashtray that envied her fathers, and a couple half eaten meals sat decaying. With a lip curled in utter revulsion, she took the collar of her shirt and pulled it away from her body to inhale the stench that came from her unbathed flesh. "Ugh, oh come on girl your smelling ratchet!" She ground out her eyes nearly watering from the musk of body odor and grease. One hand went to the puffy mass of neglected perm on her head wincing at how horrible it felt. "Alright, enough is enough Bulma Briefs! You're a Briefs!" She called out with more confidence then she truly felt, pushing away from her desk she went to get a well-needed shower and then she was going to do something about this worn out hairdo!

Three hours later, and a lot of cursing she looked at her reflection in the mirror, a horrible amount of pain was etched in her eyes but with enough mascara that could be covered away as well. She had lost some of her curvatures due to her lack of eating and resulting weight loss, her cheeks looked a bit sunken her pale skin was sickly and ashen from being locked away in the lab with no real sunlight. All these things could be fixed with make-up, and some relaxation.

But what she was focused on the most were the long waves of turquoise that hung to her mid-back, the beautiful locks had held up well to the stressful amounts of chemicals that were used to undo the perm. They framed her face well and were slightly curled at the ends but none the less perfect. She couldn't help but inhale deeply a little boost to her confidence in times of being down always helped anyone.

Pulling out a Capsule Corp t-shirt and some high-rider shorts that where snug on her bottom in all the correct places she, bounced down the steps of the Brief Mansion one of the largest buildings on the Capsule Crop compound. A firm grip on the cell phone in her palm as she was preparing to sit down with a nice cup of tea, some of her mother's famous sweets and finally face the messages from the one man she had planned to marry her whole life until a couple weeks ago.

It didn't register with him until he had shut off the Gravity Rooms power that her Ki was no longer flickering on the far side of the compound where it had stayed stationary for weeks now. If it hadn't been for being able to sense Ki he would have expected them to be dragging out a corpse by now. Not that Vegeta really would have minded the weeks of peace from the loud mouth woman had been a blissful time for him to focus on his training, even if that little nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach would flare every now and again for him to seek out the woman just for the thrill of an argument.

He would never admit to anyone, not even himself that their verbal sparring was fuel for his workouts on more than one occasion, she got his blood pumping like he was getting ready for battle. Her absence he was sure had something to do with the inferior runt that she had been, "dating", yet another pathetic human practice that the scar-faced imbecilic couldn't seem to master, along with being a warrior. Not that he cared, he only gave it the smallest bit of thought because now the woman's father had taken over repairing the Gravity Room but wasn't able to give it the upgrades that the woman could. If she had stayed in there another day then he would have had to scream at her to get the hell up and fix his training equipment.

Grabbing a towel from a weight bench he began to wipe the cloth over his sweaty skin, a growl in his stomach making his feet instinctively head to the kitchen to see what the Mother of the woman had prepared for him. Too busy thinking about food to notice that, that's where her weak Ki had settled until it was too late to turn and avoid her. He stopped for a moment for a split second, the woman's hair was out of that awful bouncy knot on her head, and instead, it was loose and running down her back, spilling out onto the table in small pools that smelled strongly like vanilla. She was beauty-enough with that. "Wench! Where is my food?" He mouthed out loudly, a hinting growl in his words, watching with slight amusement as she looked up from her half-eaten pastry and the glow of her cell phones screen. Her lush pink lips in a firm line as her deep blue eyes burned holes into his chest plate.

"I'm sorry, excuse me? But just who do you think you're squawking at!" She hissed, her voice filled with venom.

"Apparently a waste of space, who can't understand their native language. Food, I demand it!" He said a stern expression as he crossed his muscular arms over his chest.

"I'm sorry veggie, but I'm not your personal slave who you can just boss around! Get your own god damn food!"

"Woman!" He screamed, a vein in his neck straining as he uncrossed his arms fist balled to his sides as his cheek where growing red. How dare she mock the name of a prince! A title that his planet had been named after, and carried on in the royal family since the beginning of the Sayian Empire. "I will tear your tongue from that ugly snare you call a mouth! You disgusting sow of a woman! Now get me some food before I slaughter your family in front of you and feast on their flesh!" He growled his dark eyes staring at the woman who was sitting at the table with a look of boredom, which only served to further inflame his anger.

"For the love of Kami Vegeta, shut up! You're giving me a headache, jeez I'll get your stupid food!" She finally gave in, trying to hide her amusement at his hissy fit. He was more than a little steamy when he was angry. The way his muscles strained and bunched beneath his skin, eyes narrowing on her and staring through to her very soul. Licking her lips she couldn't help but wink to the Saiyan Prince before she pushed back from the table leaving her phone by her half-empty cup of tea. Vegeta hissed in anger at the vulgar woman's actions before pulling back a chair and sitting in it with a huff.

Bulma was busy reheating a large bowl of rice and an equally large bowl of chicken curry as she crossed her arms waiting for the family sized portion to finish heating up to perfection. It was strange how normal it was between her and Vegeta even after her weeks of hiding out in the lab. It was like nothing had happened and honestly she was more than happy with that, he didn't offer her pity or bugged her with constant questions instead he treated her normally. Just the peace she was needing. The verbal fighting wasn't even really making her mad it was entertainment, to say the least.

Vegeta had his eyes on those damn shorts she insisted on wearing, the way they hugged her hips and ass in all the right ways as he furrowed his brows and looked away with a huff. But his gaze was drawn back to her against his will, looking at her legs, he frowned for a moment her skin didn't have the healthy look of fresh cream instead she had the skin he had seen on prisoners in Frieza's ship who had been held away from the sun and natural light. Her waist was thinner and her fingers where boney even, he sneered what a pathetic race of creatures, to be so weak and uncaring of strength to allow themselves to grow so frail. "Woman! Hurry with that food!" He barked out gruffly, angry with himself for even giving the banshee a place in his thoughts.

With a thud, she dropped down the over-sized serving bowl filled with the rice and curry, one of her mother's large bowls she used for hunch punch at her summer garden parties. Vegeta's expression didn't change as he lifted the serving spoon and began to shovel large amounts of food into his mouth not speaking to the woman after she had served her purpose. Bulma rolled her eyes at the manners both table manners and manners in general. "Well, you are very welcome yourhighness!" She snapped, huffing as she retook her seat and picked up her phone sliding her finger over the lock screen.

Babe, call me!

7:00 pm Read

B, please I know your mad just talk to me!

7:05 pm

Its been weeks B please call me!

7:11 pm Read

I LOVE YOU! PLS CALL ME!

7:33 pm Read

B, I CAN SEE YOU READ MY MESSAGES! ANSWER ME PLEASE!

7:55 pm Read

Bulma sighed pushing a hand through the long locks of blue her eyes, on the screen as she bit her lower lip and began to type out a message, her keyboard making little clicking sounds with each tap of her fingers.

Yamcha, what could you have to say to me?

8:00 pm Sent

Oh, god B! I was so worried! Where have you been? I love you! Please call me!

8:00 pm Read

Before she even had time to answer the screen of her phone shifted to Yamcha's laughing face with a small green dot with the word Answer inside it, and a red dot with the word Ignore printed in it. She frowned deeply down at the screen and lifted a finger to press the green dot. But, that was until her phone was out of her hand and instead laying in a crumpled heap in front of her delicately folded into itself next to her half-eaten sweets. Opening her lips to scream at the Sayian who was walking away, he was already turning the corner leaving a stunned Bulma to stare at the crushed cell phone. Why would he do such a thing?

He slammed his door and began to peel the sweat heavy spandex from his toned body, his lips in a harsh line as he made his way to his shower. He didn't know why, but knowing that the scar-faced piss ant was trying to talk to the Woman after being the cause of her disappearance for the last couple weeks, made him angry and seeing her about to answer, he huffed throwing the clothes into the laundry shoot that went to the basement where Cleaning bots would wash them. Even

though at first he was suspicious of the latch in his room but now he accepted it and had come to trust no assassin would be crawling out of it in the middle of his slumber. His training couldn't handle another couple weeks of the Woman not fixing his equipment and providing him upgrades and that was the only reason he crushed the communication device. Not because of the tightening feeling in his gut whenever he thought of the two humans together.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One: The Cut

Would it ever stop burning? That lasting sensation that stayed in his skin the knowing pain that only seemed to spread with every inhale of breath into his overworked lungs, the first splash of sporadic dots over his vision and for a tender moment the world was beneath the water. Blurry and distorted before his vision laid his mother, broken and bent awkwardly a few feet from him, her legs twisted, her neck at an impossible angle, mouth agape in a long silent scream and her large dark eyes misted over. The pain came again, in the form of yet another lash of Freiza's muscular tail against his weak back, the body he was in was from the past. The body of his younger self, a child at the mercy of the tyrant who knew nothing but to bring about pain, a trait Vegeta would forever himself be imprinted with.

The neck of his mother shifted, popping out loudly into the air heavy with blood and sorrow, her mouth unmoving as her words played in the air, her empty stare focused on her wounded son, head twisted to maintain the eye contact. "Why didn't you stop him?" Her words, they caused Vegeta more pain then Frezia ever could, his lungs ached as he screamed his arm reaching out for his mother, only for his back to arch as a heavy foot landed on the young boys tail the scream turning into a high pitched squeal of agony. "Mother…" the word dripped from his lips as everything began to melt, his mother's body bubbling into the floor, his own hand starting to droll like melted wax before him, outstretched for his mother's comfort.

The bed hitting the wall with the force of his jerking awake echoed out through the room, the only accompanying sound was the thundering of his heart into his ribcage as his black eyes stared ahead seeing past the walls and into events long since played out. His nightmares were starting to flood into reality mingling actual events with the deeply hidden fears of his worn mind. It took him a moment to come to the conclusion that everything around him was not shaking, but it was him. His hands his body, his very soul was trembling, curling strong hands into a fist he slammed them onto the bed the soft material of the mattress topper absorbing the impact, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing something slam. "It's not real…" He hissed to the darkness.

The darkness only mocked the people-less prince and in its silent retort, Vegeta heard its soundless laughter, laughing at his weakness. Somewhere in the blackness of his room, it was as if he could feel the eyes watching him, the ones that were never really there, to begin with, and the eyes of all the innocent people he had massacred. Eyes of women torn from their lovers, children ripped from their mothers, and men who had to watch all they loved burn away to ash, their eyes never truly closed because Vegeta felt their gazes even now. The slanted eyes of red he waited for them to appear from the shadows, the eyes of his merciless overseer the eyes of his capture, of Frezia. Out of all the gazes forever staring at the Sayian it was these eyes that he hated the most.

Throwing back the covers from his bed he threw his legs over the side, placing his naked feet on the heated wooden floors of his bedroom. He felt aged, sleep never left him rested it left him feeling stiff and older then he had been when he closed his eyes. A lifetime of destruction had that effect on someone's soul, whatever was left of his, to begin with. Reaching a strong hand up he ran it through the thick mane of black working his fingers through the tangled mess that sat on his head. He needed to train, feel his body on fire and mind racing, to sweat out all the heaviness in his chest that threatened to crush him as he stood. Pulling from the top of his dresser the beaten spandex shorts that were freshly washed he pulled them onto his nude legs to cover his freely swaying manhood and packing it against his leg. As his mind cooled down from his fitful sleep, he began to ignore the unseen stares and focused on the Ki's in the home, everything seemed very silent and calm. The old man and woman's Ki was low and smoldering a sign of sleep, but as he broadened his senses he felt the flaring Ki of the woman. She was awake and seemed to be active not at rest. As he walked down the halls of the sprawling earthlings home he heard it against his

will, the small sniffling mewling of the Woman. A sound that against all instincts made his gut clench in a feeling of awkward unknown tightening that left him with a new kind of heavy sensation baring down on his armored chest.

He grit his teeth, feeling the canine's grind against one another as he looked at her closed door, it was different than the plain doors of the rest of the house, it was painted a bright blue much like the Woman's hair, and in a bright yellow was the word "Bulma" written out in a fancy cursive.

When he had first seen the heinous display of color he had rolled his eyes at how the woman wanted to draw attention to herself even through a closed door. But the yellow fit her, it was cheerful just like the brightness she brought into a room whenever she entered or at least used too. Ever since her failed attempt at mating with the idiot weakling she had dimmed, he sensed it after a lifetime of interrogating he was good at reading people, far past their surfaces. It was in the way she moved, the way she would stare off into nothingness, the way her usual teasing manner had become lackluster, and her flirtatious attitude had nearly dissolved. The only person in the house who seemed to notice her changes was himself, and it bothered him.

To say Bulma wasn't taken care of would have been a lie, she was the most pampered and spoiled child on Earth growing up, but her parents lacked the amount of attention towards a child they should have had. Her father always busy taking care of the company, birthing new inventions into the world and providing not only for a family but for the people of the earth. There had been many birthdays where he had neglected to show up in person to see his daughter, instead sending a video call or a lavish amount of presents. This had not gone unfelt by the growing heiress perhaps which was why at such a young age she had decided a boyfriend could fill the gap of loneliness in her life where her father's presence should have been.

Bunny, her mother was not someone who would step up to cover her father mistakes, she instead had her own flaws she doted on being a mother not so much for the bond but for the bragging rights of showing off adorable pictures, of going on shopping trips to buy clothes, toys and other trinkets, for the idea of being a mother. But not the emotional work needed to be put into a child, she had too much to do to dedicate so much to another person, you couldn't be the wife of one of the most well-known men the world and not have a bolstering social life to attend too. Quite frankly she just wasn't the type of woman to sacrifice her own enjoyments for another. With age, of course, she had gotten to know her adult daughter, but there was never that deep emotional bond that other mothers and daughters share. Bulma had grown to take care of herself, to be a woman that her mother couldn't be or understand because she was self-reliant and strong.

Even in her weakest moments like during the heartache of a painful breakup she didn't let anyone hear her sobs. At least she thought, she didn't know that a certain Saiyan Prince was outside her door listening to her whimpers and for a split moment, he had the oddest thought to knock on the bright door. But instead, he turned his back to the little weak cries of a fragile heart and went to beat her training bots into piles of the unrepairable ruble, picturing the scar-faced waste taking their place instead.

Blue hair was piled into a sloppy bun on top of her head, a few stray strands sticking from the bundle and falling down her reddened cheeks. Sticking to the tears that wet her porcelain skin, as she buried her hands deep into her pillow the overstuffed object showing signs of nightly trauma. Smears of make-up stained the silky fabric of the sea green pillowcase that matched her sheets, the inky smudges of eyeliner and mascara carelessly spilled onto the expensive fabric. The soft sniffling of the heiress was slowly coming to an end it was being stifled by her bodies need to rest, tomorrow she planned on updating the Gravity Room, another chore to keep her busy and her mind from wandering. But when she laid her head on her soft bed, her mind won her inner battle and the overwhelming crushing emotions suffocated her.

Yamcha had been the one, the one man she thought she was simply meant to be with, he had been the one she wanted to spend all her life with, to grow old beside. Sure he had his problems in the past with other women. But she had always believed that those long glances and flirting looks had been a result of youthful hormones and a passing phase. But boy had she been wrong, he hadn't grown out of it, in fact, he seemed to have been consumed by it after they had finally had sex a few years ago. The coupling of their bodies seemed to have been the hammer and nail in their

relationships coffin.

Bulma remembered that night well he had taken her out to a nice quiet dinner at a beachside seafood place, brought her red roses, not her favorite but still a lovely gesture none the less. And then once they had gotten back to his apartment, he had made out with her and they had touched one another, and the wine made everything so relaxed that when he was over her kissing along her neck and asking entrance between her legs with his hips constant grinding she had happily parted her thighs.

Her gut clenched, a feeling of physical pain overtook her at the memory, as she bit her lower lip squeezing shut her deep blue eyes to try and block out the thoughts. It had hurt badly to be invaded by him, and he had bucked with talentless enthusiasm that left her sore. Not only that, but he had released inside her which had put her through weeks' worth of worrying until final she had found blood in her favorite panties, she hadn't even been angry at the ruined Tommy Hilfiger stripped bikini cut underwear, she felt blessed to be bleeding for a week.

She shifted in her bed releasing her grip on her pillow and turning from her side and onto her back, she had been laying near nude, in nothing but an oversized T-shirt with the Capsule Corp logo on the front and the words "Annual 5K" beneath it. One of the many shirts they handed out at the event, just one she had kept for herself to sleep in which was why she had gotten such a large size. A heavy sigh rattled from her chest as she inhaled through her nose, the snot rattling in her skull as she kept it from dripping down to her lips. That's when the thought hit her, right as the snot was sucked back in where was her period now? She had been in the lab for weeks wallowing in self-pity, and nothing, she had been out of the lab for a week and still nothing. Her eyes shot open nearly painfully as she lurched from the bed, stumbling as she was off balance and began to tear her way into the bathroom. Fear blooming in the bit of her stomach, like a brick it sat there only gaining in weight as she sucked in a breath through her teeth.

White marble countertops, sparkling with perfection looked extraordinarily dim to her now, a cup sitting out of place beside an array of hair products, filled with a yellow substance that had but moments ago been held in her bladder. A thin large piece of paper laid out with the instruction on how to conduct the test and crumbled on the floor curled against the toilet and the edge of the tub sat the girl whose entire world was in flames before her. The hot fat tears trailing down her face splashed down onto her hands and the stick of plastic grasped there. "Dear Kami…why..." She whispered softly her soft hiccupping sobs dying in the marble laced bathroom as she fought back a wave of sickness that wrecked her body. There was no mistaking who's it was, it had to be Yamcha, she had laid with no one else, she had been gotten pregnant by him, and she wept.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter 2- Wounded

Dr. Kitsu had been working for the Briefs long before Bulma had been born, in fact, she had been on staff when the heiress had been delivered into this world. She remembered everyone's gasp of shock and surprise when they saw the tuff of blue hair make its appearance between Bunny's legs. They coos and babble over the sweet babe who had the hair of a sea goddess. Sweet, yet very loud, she had cried so loudly and for so long the mother was sure the child was defective, they had spent half an hour trying to convince Bunny to breastfeed and the child would stop her sobs for nourishment. But Bunny had just had breast surgery much to the family's gynecologist's shock and uproar so finally the mystery of why the babe hadn't fed from the mother was solved and some formula was brought in.

Now here that same blue haired babe sat, though not much of a babe anymore, no she was a full grown woman infant adorableness replaced with mature beauty. She had lost a bit of weight according to her chart but Bulma had reassured her that she wasn't suffering an eating disorder and after consulting with Bulmas therapist Dr. Manko she was assured it was more from depressive lack of appetite. Now she sat in front of the older woman, her multi-colored scrubs sticking out in the white room, with the heiress seated on the observation table. A plain blue sundress a lighter shade then her hair alone with white heels seemed almost too plain for a woman known to set the fashion trends, but that was to be expected with what all the young woman had just confessed to her.

The information that she was pregnant had been confirmed with a blood test, there was no mistaking that Bulma Briefs was carrying Yamcha's child. "Bulma, I know this is very hard for you but you have options. You are not very far along in the pregnancy a month and some odd weeks. " Dr. Kitsu was an older woman, and over time she had learned that it was best to set out all the options for a woman with an unexpected pregnancy because you would hate for her to go looking in the wrong places for answers for fear of being judged. She had seen too many young girls die from a coat hanger shoved up to far to be afraid to mention abortion to a woman who seemed like she was on the fence about a pregnancy. "I don't know your stance on some things, but there is always adoption or abortion. Now I know there is a lot of ugly stigma around that option, but I can promise you this, you will have the utmost support, the utmost privacy in whatever you choose you to do. I am your doctor my job is to take care of you and your needs…" The newly to be mother heard little of what the doctor said, her mind was inflamed with so many emotions that she was unable to focus on anything around her. Instead, she was locked in the misery of her own thoughts, and what ifs. What if this had happened months ago before she had found Yamacha balls deep in some baseball fangirl? Her hands curled at the dirty memory as it replayed itself, the image of their intertwined legs taunting her, bile rose on in the back of her throat as she forced herself to calm down. No, he wouldn't get the best of her with his memory. He had already gotten her youthful years, her bleeding heart, and now he got to claim a bastard flame in her womb. Pale hands fluttered to her stomach where they rested uneasily, there was life there in the cradle of her body, not a raging fire of a soon to be a person but the smoldering happenings of one.

There was her future to look to, not only her future but Yamchas, a growing baseball star. She grit her teeth, she may hate him but this decision needed to be looked at through both eyes of those who had helped create the little smolder inside of her. They both were young, full of dreams. She was just now gaining ground with the Capsule Corp investors, she was to become Vice President within the coming year, she was going to change the world like her father had done. Pale fingers dug into her stomach slightly her eyes never leaving the crack in the otherwise spotless tiled floor, a crack that began a small shiver and blossomed to a large gash in the white flooring. Perhaps

that's how her soul looked now, all those little hurts had put too much strain on it and now it was bursting beneath the pressures.

What would his soul look like? What would Yamcha's soul look like, would it be cracked and fragile? No, she didn't think it would, she pictured it to be bright and vibrant because Yamcha cared for no one but himself in the end. She remembered painfully all the times he had come to her for money, to help him get connections within the Major Leagues for his baseball career through her families well-known name and fortune. Suddenly while studying that crack in the flooring she realized just how much Yamcha had used her, had taken advantage of her, used her forgiving, soft soul as a stepping stone to where he wanted to be in life, not caring how much the weight of holding him up cracked and destroyed her own.

Now, just as always he left her carrying a burden, and left to make a choice that would crack her soul a little more. Because in these memories another resurfaced one that seemed almost destine now. They had been laying out in the garden, soaking in the sunshine to tan their bodies. Yamcha had always tanned very well and rather easily but Bulma on the other hand, she only stayed creamy white or burned so badly she would be in a peeling whimpering mass of pain for days. Teasingly they had gotten on the subject of their future, the usual young couple fantasies, the big house, the white picket fence, the well-behaved dog.

"We will have like five kids! I want all girls! Squee! Imagine all the shopping I would get to do!" She had yelled out excitedly kicking her long creamy legs at the idea.

His chuckle had been a bit dry as he rolled over between her legs looking down at her, "Oh, come on Bulma, you really want to have to look after a bunch of brats?" His large hands rubbing her outer thighs as he hovered over her navel with his lips.

"What do you mean brats? Don't you want kids?" She asked wiggling her hips at the pleasant filling of his hands, the hot panting of his breath against her.

He lowered his head to her bikini bottoms, nuzzling her inner thigh with his nose, "Hell no B, I don't want kids. I didn't even like being a kid! I mean did you really enjoy having to look after Goku when he was a kid! No way, I don't want a brat."

She didn't remember her response to that, she remembered he had pulled her bottoms to the side after that, and they had spent the rest of the afternoon making love in the sun. She bit her lip, that seemed to happen a lot, whenever she mentioned their future he would change the subject, whether with sex or changing the topic of conversation. Smother out the words with kisses, once or twice he would bring up an argument and then it hit her as if she had been smashed with a Ki blast.

He had never wanted a future with her, he never intended to stay.

The crack in the tile seemed to go a little deeper then.

He stalked the grounds of the extensive compound like a beast on the hunt, sure steps falling silent on the green grass beneath, each step seeming to fall harder than the last as he sought out her Ki. Two days, and not a single sign-on her, not her Ki, not her scent, not her sounding screams in aggravation at one of his insults. Just nothingness, as if she had simply up and vanished. Vegeta sneered at some gardener attending to some shrubbery, sending the man stumbling a few steps back and sputtering out apologies. "You man! Where is the old Woman?!" He barked out, stopping his stride as he glared at the grown man, gripping a pair of sheers as if they would somehow spare him Vegeta's wrath. "I don't have all day! Tell me what I want to know or I will give you something to actually snivel about!" His voice left no room for the threat to be thought empty.

"M-Mrs. Briefs? Sh-She was in the flower beds by the back patio!" He yelped out trying to contain the stammer in his voice, but he knew his fear was evident. Vegeta gave him a scowl and rolled his eyes at the inferior man as he made his way in that direction without another word. Stalking across the ground he grit his teeth, balling his fist in agitation. Why was he seeking her out? Why did he feel that uncomfortable tightness in his chest whenever he thought of her. He found himself seeking out her Ki throughout the day now and again, trying to sense it and every time he couldn't locate it that ball in his stomach would grow a bit tighter. He told himself again and again that it was for the upgrades he had been promised but had yet to be delivered upon. But

he knew that wasn't the reason. So he focused on the rage and not the reason behind it.

Seeing the blonde mindless woman bobbing about on her knees, tending to some yellow daisies that grew among some petunias he stopped his footfalls and barked out in a rough voice. "Old Woman where is the banshee!" He yelled, with more volume and force than was necessary seeing as he was right behind her. The older lady jerked up her hand going to the large sunhat on her head, the other holding a spade, and both clad in pink, dirt smeared gardening gloves.

"Oh, Vegeta! You gave me a start!" She smiled at him none the less her expression lacking any real surprise just that smile that seemed to be tattooed on her lips at every moment of the day. "Oh well, I don't think we have any Banshees! But if you put them on the list I will be sure to pick some up at the store!" She gave him a little nod and went to turn back to her flowers.

Vegeta felt his temper flaring and grit his teeth cursing Kami for making this woman his only source of the information he wanted. "No, you daft human! I mean the Woman, the loud one!" If her next answer didn't soothe his agitation he was sure he would blast this old hag into pieces and she could feed her plants that way for a few months.

Bunny stared at the Sayian Prince for a moment before raising her brow for a moment and then smiling widely. "Ah! You mean Bulma. Well, Bulma is at the hospital for a couple days they were going to keep her in the compound but she for some reason didn't want to stay here. She said she was getting some kidney stones removed or some nonsense." Bunny waved a hand in a dismissive gesture and smiled, "Oh I know! I have gotten the most delicious strawberry tarts from the bakery! I'm sure you would just love them."

Was the woman in the hospital? So that's why her pathetic Ki hadn't been fluttering about the compound, or her shrieks interrupted his training sessions and meals. The old woman prattling drowned out as Vegeta began to process what she had just told him. The woman had kidney stones? He hadn't heard her complain about anything bothering her lately and he was sure he would have heard her vocalizing her discomfort at least once before she wasn't exactly silent. Not only that, but why would they need to go off compound for such a simple procedure, when the gravity chamber had exploded they hadn't needed to take him off the compound and that had been much more serious than kidney stones. Vegeta felt his fist tighten, he felt like he was being lied too, but the person lying to him wasn't in on the lie. No one lied to the Prince of Saiyans.


	4. Chapter Three

_ Chapter Three- Phantom Pains

"How many minutes wherein an hour, sixty, how many seconds in a minute, sixty, how many seconds in an hour, how long have I been here?" The thought ran over in Bulma's mind as she laid on the bed staring up at the ceiling, large ocean eyes staring with no real interest as she let out a gentle sigh. The light above her bed was flickering, it had been for some time now but she couldn't bring herself to press the red nurse button for help. Her body felt heavy, not from medication, just simple lack of will. She knew that she hadn't been here long, a day and a half. The procedure was simple and over with the first day of her being here, but she had to stay a couple days longer just so the story of kidney stones to the public looked genuine. She had to cover all her tracks, she had to protect her name and her company, so here she laid staring at the light who couldn't decide whether or not to illuminate her room.

Shifting on her bed she let her gaze stare out of the large bay window of her simplistic room, the window, a guest chair, a small table on wheels on her other side, and a flat screen mounted across from the bed. The walk-in bathroom settled in the corner, and a closet and sink as someone walked into their left. She could have had something more lavish, but simple was good for now. After all, it was very soothing, the view she had from the window was the best, it overlooked a wooden park that housed a running trail part of a, "Get Green and Get Fit", initiative that Capsule Corp. had started as part of an HR push to help childhood obesity. But the trees grew so thick and dense that one couldn't see the trail, it was a beautiful forest landscape.

Bulma sighed and settled back into the bed as she looked down at her hands, her nails were done very well, a simple French white tip manicure, a small blue jewel embedded in her upper pinky nail on her left hand. Her fingers were gaining back a little weight it was a small step to going back to her healthy figure, and the hospital staff had been helpful in making sure to have meals that tempted her appetite. The long strands of teal were pulled back into a simple braid that hung off her shoulder a tribute to her younger days when it was her signature style for a while. She smiled at the thought of those days, her and Goku, all those crazy adventures they got themselves into, her childish wish for the dragon balls. Those really had been the days.

How many people could say that as a child they had traveled around the world with a Legendary Saiyan, gathering the dragon balls? Things had been so simple then, so easy and yet back then her wish for the perfect boyfriend had been one that overcame her senses. How silly she had been, seeking out her worth in a boy, when there she was herself going on amazing adventures and gathering the dragon balls, before Goku she had been doing it all on her own too! Her grin grew a bit larger, but it flattered on her lush pink lips as she remembered what those young wants had led her too, Yamcha. That word brought back a pain in her stomach that caused her to have to close her eyes and swallow, there was so much regret and betrayal in that name.

Having made the decision to keep her pregnancy and termination of said pregnancy from her ex-boyfriend had been a decision she had made on her own. She didn't know how he would have reacted to the knowledge she was pregnant, but in every scenario, she had calculated she didn't see it going well. There was too much ahead of them, her career at the company, his baseball career, the androids coming, no, it wasn't the time for a child especially one born of lust. A child that would be bounced from parent to parent, a child that would not have known a full and happy home, no, now wasn't the time. Her teeth trapped her lower lip in a painful embrace as she grasped her hands to try and calm their shaking, what would he say to her?

In her deep thoughts, she was not aware of the sounds coming from the hallway, whether that be from the heavy thick walls of the room, and the dense wooden door, or just from her own ignorance to the world around her was unsure. But if she had been able to hear then she would have heard a nurse's indignant yelp as a moody Sayian shoved her from his path.


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter four - Broken Plaster

After a flight over the city, it hadn't taken him long to find her Ki, to feel it safely tucked away in the human medical facility. The guards at the front of the Bulma's door tensed seeing the spandex-clad Saiyan, gripping their belts harder to try and appear more in control of the situation then they were. "Move humans, or do I need to make you," Vegeta stated calmly coming to a stop in his stride before the door. His thick arms crossing over his chest as he gave a lopsided smirk, it held no warmth or friendship, only contempt, and threat.

The younger of the two men, who was a good foot taller than Vegeta spoke up, his fingers tightening on his belt as he fidgeted with his stance. "I'm sorry Sir, but Miss Brief's isn't taking visitors." His voice held a tremble as he tried to will through strength behind his words he didn't feel. Vegeta had to give the man a little credit; he was faring better than the older of the two Guards who was standing there with a shaking in his legs and his eyes darting from Vegeta to the hallway, no doubt planning his escape if it escalated to blows.

His voice could have been mistaken for humorous as he spoke next his dark eyes staring at the taller man as if he towered over him instead of having to cram his neck up to make eye contact. "I didn't ask your permission boy, nor do I intend too." The glint in his onyx eyes seemed to mock the taller man who tensed at the spiky-haired man's words, the tensing and un-tensing of his throat making Vegeta's grin grow as the guard swallowed nervously. "Sir I-" "Move."

Bulma jumped harshly at the sound of her door bursting open and slamming into the wall, the sound of the doorknob cracking through the plaster echoed out loudly in the sterile hallways of the unit. A few cries mingled with scuttling bodies caused the heiress to sit up in her bed, trying to calm her pounding heart. Instantly feeling the heat rising into her cheeks as in pranced a scolding prince, his fist balled at his sides and eyes full of fire. Confusion overtook her initial shock as her brows furrowed on her face, and her lips parted in unuttered questions, only for them to be interrupted by the high pitched apologies of a lanky guard as he peeked his head in timidly from the gaping doorway.

"Miss Briefs I am so sorry! He demanded to see you, I-" Bulma didn't need to hear anymore, she was all too familiar with the way Vegeta treated people, especially the hired help or guards of Capsule Corp. When she spoke her voice seemed to soothe the tall man's agitation. "Lance, it's alright, would you please tell the staff not to worry and close the door."

Lance looked like the heavens had opened and Bulma had been his savior, he had been afraid she would demand he throw the man out, which he was sure would lead to his untimely death. With a bit of a struggle that was made all the more awkward by the intimidating presence of Vegeta; who had taken up standing beneath the mounted TV, arms crossed and glaring at Bulma, Lance was finally able to free the door from the ruined plaster of the wall and close it shut without another word.

Out of the way of prying eyes, Bulma allowed her temper to flare, "Just what in Kami's name do you think you're doing prancing in here and causing such a fucking scene!" She seethed, her words dripping from her pale lips like venom as she didn't allow being in a paper gown laid out in a hospital bed cause her to lose any of her authority. Whatever there was to be had against the Prince of Saiyan's of course. However, him causing such a scene could cause her problems she wanted this whole situation to be kept hush and lock, not giving the tabloids any reason to suspect a story that would smear her good name.

He only glared at her, his expression unchanging and eyes boring into her with the force of an electrical current that seemed to surge right up her spine and make her head feel a bit fuzzy. The only telling fact he even heard her was the sound of his gloves as his fist tightened causing the material to intimate a high pitch sound. "Shut your squawking mouth, woman and remember just who you are talking too! I am not one of the lowly humans you can command about! I go where I damn well please." Before Bluma could open her mouth to retaliate Vegeta was steamrolling along. "Don't think I find any pleasure in having to seek your ugly face out of a crowd, the only god damn reason I didn't burn this city to the ground was because I want some reasons as to way my gravity room is still maxed out at 400, and why my droids aren't upgraded like I was promised by you over a week ago."

He never yelled, he stared at her unblinking and deep his arms crossed over his broad muscular chest that she had seen nude many times before around the compound. The way he spoke was low and demanding, it was a voice of a man who had little patience left for games and full of power. Bulma felt herself shift on the bed uncomfortably, where was her anger she had been brewing in moments before, and why did that damn stare keep thrilling her. "I- I don't need to explain anything to you Vegeta, you're a guest in my home, not my owner. I am not your slave you can just order around!" She shot back, her voice laced with far more confidence then she felt, but the added anger at the idea he thought he could scold her like a child put in more energy to the words.

Vegeta felt his patience wearing down thin, his lip curled to reveal his sharp canines as he bit back the growl growing in his chest. This woman knew how to grind on his nerves, and he was through with her games. He could take the verbal sparring, the loudmouth, and the constant complaints on his attitude but how dare the banshee think she could lie to him, to lie to a Saiyan, to the Prince of all Saiyans for that matter! The anger seemed to boil off of him and steam into the air, making the surroundings swell with tension. "Drop your lies woman." His voice was so full of disgust Bulma had to shiver; she had never seen him this way. Angry, yes plenty of times, agitated, constantly, but this, this was something more and it freighted her to a degree. "Open your lips with anything other than an explanation and I swear on this worthless mudball of a planet I will make you regret it."

Bulma sat on the bed awkwardly staring at the Saiyan, her wide blue eyes trapped in the deep abyss of his onyx gaze as she began to straighten her spine her chest fluttering uncomfortably. She knew she was at the edge of his good graces, and whatever he would do to make her regret lying to him most likely would bomb any chance of keeping the tabloids noises out of her vicinity. Opening her lips she shut them again, her tongue felt dry in her mouth as she finally let out a sigh of surrender, cursing Kami, fate, and the Saiyan race altogether. "Vegeta will you sit down, please you're making me anxious just standing there with your gloomy expression." As he opened his mouth to cut into her she broke in before the words could fall. "I'll be honest with you, just please?"

She said please with a crestfallen expression, one Vegeta in all his fury didn't like to see on her, it made instincts inside of him stir that had never been brushed into being before and it confused him. Snarling he approached the bed and plopped himself down on the foot of it, his arms crossed still over his chest, his face a stone wall of neutral seething. No words were needed to tell Bulma he was waiting for her confession.

It was all too surreal and for a brief moment, Bulma thought maybe it was a side effect of some painkiller that a nurse had slipped in her food. Just a medically induced hallucination, but no hallucination could produce such a powerful force surrounding one man, unfortunately for Bulma. "Vegeta, what I am going to tell you, it is very private and you will be the only person to know." Her hands began to twist in her lap, she captured her wrist in her left hand and rubbed it worrisomely, hoping the action would milk out some of her anxiety from her very skin. Blue eyes darted from a stone Saiyan to the window as she continued. "I had an abortion." The Saiyan only raised a brow and looked in her direction, biting her lower lip she got caught in his eyes and unable to look away she realized he didn't know what that word meant. "I was pregnant with Yamcha's child and I had the pregnancy terminated."

He furrowed his brows, opening his lips to speak before shutting them again and standing up beside the side of the bed uncrossing his arms. He was sweltering with emotions, anger being a primary one, but also jealousy. The picture of Bulma, pregnant with that weakling's child, the two of them wrapped up in one another, it made him want to vomit and break a hole in the wall. The irrational outrage at such a thing only caused him to be conflicted on the meaning, leading to more irritation to feed the beast of rage in his gut. But one look at the blue haired woman on the bed, and rage seemed to take a back burner in his mind. He had been too caught up in wanting truthfulness and explanation to see that Bulma was looking tired, she had circles beneath her bright blue eyes, which looked dim, her lips where pale her face void of the usual makeup. She was staring at him with those wide eyes, which seemed to be on the brink of tears, he felt in that moment the instinct to comfort her and he loathed it. Turning to leave he stalked to the door, hand outreached to yank it open. "Please stay with me." Halting he didn't turn around.

Stupid, weak woman, emotional banshee, he didn't care that she was all hung up on her own problems with that weak little rat. That she stayed up crying, that she wouldn't eat her meals, that she had lost weight, that even though her family didn't notice any of this he did. Taking his hand away from the door he walked back toward the bed only to throw himself down in the chair and stare out at the window. Sitting in silence together they watched the sun retire from the sky, and Bulma slowly drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Shame

Each breathe she pulled in made her chest expand against the white cloth of that protected her from the chill of the room. Which now was cast in shadows from the little lights on the ceiling that were set in a state of dimness, the sun long gone somewhere behind the edge of the world. In those shadows staring with their silent mocking were the eyes of the dead. The ones who would not cross over into hell or dragon way because they waited, instead choosing to mock and torment their murderer to punish the living executioner. Vegeta stared forward into the darkest corner of the room, glaring back into the unseen eyes as he gripped the arms of the chair a bit harder.

But the little whine from the bed stole his stare, and his dark eyes gazing over the sleeping woman. He had seen her so at peace only once before, so perfectly calm. Not seething with anger while growling her empty insults at him, not pouting about because of something the weakling had done, no fake smiles, or hallow laughter, just this calmness that only came to her in slumber. He had awoken to this expression on her porcelain face once before after the gravity chamber had exploded and he had been in the medical bay. She had stayed with him and that was the only reason he sat here now. The Prince of Saiyans should be in debt to no one, not even the kindness of this wench.

He stared at her, eyes refusing to leave her form. When had he begun to see her as more than the squawking slave woman? When had he begun to see her as an equal?

Equal? Ha! To the prince of Saiyans?! But yes, somewhere along the line…he had stopped looking down on her. He would never tell her that, but she had become, somewhat important to the Saiyan Prince. No other creature had the nerve to stand toe to toe with him in a screaming match the way she could, no other creature could make his blood simmer one moment, then rage into a boil the next, and live. But she could. He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes, these thoughts were not clear, all mixed with the Sayians exhaustion, his hunger, his anger at the weakling for being the source of her pain. Somewhere in these thoughts, sleep like a shroud began to filter in and out of his conscious mind, and moments turned to minutes, as slowly he was seduced into the abyss with the promise of rest and peace from his thoughts.

When Bulma began to awaken it was due to the sounds of distress echoing out into her room, spilling from the clenched teeth of the Sayian. It was the sounds of a wounded animal, throwing his head from side to side as his fingers dug into the arms of the chair the sound of cracking press wood a reminder of his strength. The pale woman slowly sat up staring at the man, the moonlight that shimmered in from the window the only source of light as she studied the hard lines on the man's face, the thin film of sweat on his skin, she was seeing his pain. Her heart swelled in her chest, a pain striking her like a physical blow, for a moment she didn't move at all, she only stared. It was too surreal to see this proud, strong man of stone in weakness.

Bulma always knew, she always knew that he hurt, she could see his pain in his angry shouts, see the way he looked at the affection her family showed him with eyes of confusion, how when his home was brought up in conversation there was the briefest expression of sorrow. Beginning to stand she made sure that the thin gown was tied tightly enough around her neck that it would not slip to the floor due to her movements. As she made her way to his side, she bit her lower lip there was a slight fear of waking him, but to see him in such pain was unbearable.

"Vegeta…" She whispered loudly, the man didn't respond mumbling in a foreign language as his body trembled. "Vegeta!" She called out with urgency in her tone, her blue hair tumbling down her shoulder as it twisted free from the braid in her sleep. "Vegeta…please…" She pressed her hand to his shoulder firmly and gave him a shake. "Vege-" His name was cut off from her lips as she felt her feet lift from the cold tiles of the hospital room floor, her feeble hands tearing at his wrist as he tightened the grip on her neck. His expression was dark, shadowed as the moon had escaped to its sanctuary behind the thick clouds.

Onyx eyes where wide the pupils dilated and distant, as he stood in all his power his veins bulging as the heat from his flaring Ki was burning at her flesh through the fabric of his gloves. Bulma felt bile rising in the back her throat as she kicked her legs her nails digging into his hot skin, peeling at the top layer as she desperately needed to breathe, she was on the verge of frenzy at the idea of death to the hands of this Sayian. Suddenly without warning, she was slung to the side her back hitting the edge of the bed as she let out a cry of pain, feeling her eyes swell with tears as her skin began to instantly bruise.

Vegeta looked around the room confused as the hand that had but moments ago been strangling the blue-haired woman was now tightening at his side. The instincts of a warrior were flooding back to him as his drowsiness escaped leaving only the complete horror at what he had done.

"You idiot woman!" He bellowed, turning to the woman on the floor, his dark eyes crackling with fury. "Look what you've done!" His voice was panicked, it was on the brink of cracking. He had harmed her. From the floor came a feeble rasp as she drew in hot breathes from her sore throat, before slowly beginning to stand using the bed as a crutch. He expected her to cry, to sob helplessly at the pain. Because she was frail, she was human and they were a weak species.

He took a step towards her helplessly, and on edge from the view of this woman harmed, harmed by him. "Don't you call me an idiot you big jerk!" The words shocked him, she stood one hand on her throat as her raspy yells filled his ears. "I was only trying to help you, you big …ugh fucking spaz how am I going to cover this up?" She continued. Vegeta looked shell-shocked, but slowly he was starting to grin his chest swelling. He always seemed to underestimate her, this woman in all her smallness, even after nearly being killed by the serial planet purger, she was not afraid to stand her ground.

Bulmas ranting and raving were cut short as suddenly Vegeta was in her face, his hand over her mouth as he leaned his head down. "Shut up woman." He whispered, slowly tilting her chin up as he observed the bruise that was slowly darkening into the shape of his hand. Into the shadow of his shame on her skin. "I know you didn't mean too..," She whispered, her hands laying against his chest as she stared up into his face. "You were having a nightmare and I didn't know how else to wake you." She admitted the tone that of a child who had been caught doing something bad. The pain was burning in her throat, and her back and side were blistering in aches, desperate to not cry in front of him. She knew he hadn't been in control, she knew that and to push him away by being skittish and afraid wouldn't help him. He needed someone that was clear, but he was proud and asking for help was beyond him.

So she wouldn't wait for him to ask. The warmth of his hand on her throat slowly retracted to her disappointment. "Let me see your side." Bulma opened her lips and shook her head. "Vegeta that isn't necessary. I'm fine really. Besides to show you that I would have to lift up my gown-" She gasped as suddenly his warm hand was on her wrist as he gripped her firmly but not tight enough to damage her, as his other hand slowly yanked the gown upwards the frail paper-like fabric straining as he exposed her.

"Vegeta!" She screamed out her pale cheeks burning red with embarrassment as he slipped his hand up her hip, her blue eyes going wide as he left trails of fire on her skin. He was coaxing the wrong reactions from her body, dear Kami was he warm. His large hand spread over the large bruise as his expression furrowed. The prince of Saiyans felt shame at causing her pain, to see that he had marked her beautiful flawless skin, it was disgusting for him to have behaved in such a matter. Sayians did not harm female Sayians out of combat and duty, he had been raised with that code of conduct taught to him by his father. Bulma though not Sayian, was the closest female being to the title of Sayian he had ever come across, she was fiery, full of inner strength and smarter than any being he had ever come across, the realization came in the form of his shame. But his onyx eyes strayed from the bruise and her figure, her intimate parts covered only with the lacy undergarments that were a drastic white on her creamy skin. He felt his body reacting his hand tightening possessively around her wrist as the spot where his tail once was twitched excitedly. The sudden strong pull away from him and loud screech stunned him as she tore away

fuming as she covered herself. "Vegeta this isn't decent!" She rushed out. Opening his lips he gaped at her for a minute before he began to bellow at her in return his anger lashing. "Oh don't flatter yourself slave woman! Your body is just as weak and disgusting as I imagined it would be." The hurt at his words flashed across her face but was quickly pushed away as she forced a laugh and flipped her hair. "Oh please." She huffed turning away from him as she pulled open a drawer to find a replacement for the flimsy gown that she now felt left her to exposed to his predatory gaze. Silently thankful to have an excuse to not face him. Vegeta knew he had hurt her, he could see past her games and mask, but he didn't understand why it was he felt guilt. "Do you…do you want to talk about it? Your dream I mean?" She asked softly, as she began to redress in some baggy grey sleep pants and worn Capsule Corps T-shirt as she didn't look in his direction waiting for his response. "Nothing happened, and if you mention it…Ill deny it." He said his voice firm and distant again as she turned to find herself alone.


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Heat

Summer on the Briefs compound was slow as it roasted away in the sun's relentless shine, the heat seemed to dance off the metal surface of the gravity room as it produced the thin translucent waves of radiating heat. The extensive yards grass was beginning to brown from lack of rain and the beloved flowers where withering, but the Briefs wouldn't use water on their lawns in the middle of a serious draught even if the city wouldn't bat an eye. Mrs. Briefs did grieve for her beloved flowers but busied herself instead with the indoor garden which was fairing far better and was in the midst of planning a large summer garden party to host in the Briefs mansion's greenhouse. The Atrium had been a project that Mr. Breif's had spent months designing for his beloved wife in the early years of their marriage. He always knew her love for floral was deep running and watching her smile fade even the slightest in the winter months when the snow overtook her garden pained him. So he designed her the perfect Greenhouse, a Capsule Crop marvel. The panels where all regulating temperature, able to create its own isolated environment of controlled temperature and precipitation. Of course, he didn't keep this genius invention to himself it made the family a hefty amount of money by selling the plans to countries who's ecosystems made it nearly impossible to grow substantial amounts of food for its populations.

Mrs. Breifs had been in complete and utter raptures over her husband's very thoughtful gift, instead of a bouquet of roses or a potted plant her husband had quite literally given her a small ecosystem all to her own. Which was one reason she just loved to host summer parties! A chance to show off her green thumb and her husband's never-ending love and resourcefulness.

Standing with her cell phone pressed to one ear, and a large bowl in the nook of her arm as her other worked the large spoon to stir the batter she prattled on to Son Goku's wife about the details of the event that would be taking place in a couple days. Her blonde hair bouncing on her head as she nodded to the woman's voice on the other end of the phone when her attention was caught by a much louder voice.

Turning Bunny was faced with her daughter in her form-fitting lab coat the Capsule Corp. logo standing out proudly on the breast area and shoulder's, some lovely maroon leggings, black shorts and a filthy white tank top simply fuming to the handsome house guest. Who was looking just as angry and in nothing but those tight spandex shorts Bunny was forever grateful for.

"Don't give me that stupid excuse! My drones are the best on this freaking planet and probably this whole galaxy, you ignoramus!" An accusing finger was pointed at the man's chest as she grit her teeth in irritation, blue eyes wide and narrowed at the man's face.

"If they where I don't see how they could be broken so easily!" He shot back his own muscle bunching beneath his sweaty skin as he looked at the finger she pointed at him as if it was the most disgusting thing he had ever witnessed. "Get that finger out of my face you blue-haired harpy!"

Bulma bristled as she stepped closer letting her finger hover right over his sweaty chest, her cheeks red from the effort put into her yelling. "They wouldn't break so easy if some big lug could control his temper, instead of having tantrums like some spoiled brat!" Her fingertip brushing against his hot chest daring his patience.

Her touch sent the prince into a fit as he stepped closer his masculine bulk overshadowing the woman balling his fist to his sides releasing a throaty growl. "Don't touch me! I swear woman I will blast you into so many pieces, not even your idiot father could put you back together!" "Don't you dare talk about my father you…you…brainless monkey!" She yelled shoving him hard with both hands, her pale cheeks aflame and her blue hair bouncing in its high ponytail. The shove was hard but nothing against the strength of the Sayian before her, who despite his rage couldn't help but like the way she looked in the midst of their battles. But even her beauty couldn't save her from the outburst of the prince at being called a monkey.

"You disgusting, ugly sow! Don't you dare insult the Saiyan race, I will fucking en -" His raving rant was cut off by the ever bubbly voice of Bunny Briefs who had some time ago hung up on Son Goku's wife and was waiting for the right time to cut into their little spat.

"Oh! Just the two people I was waiting to see! Where having a huge summer party! Isn't that wonderful!" She broke in, her smile wide as ever as she began to empty the batter into one of the long pans set out on the kitchen island workspace. "I want you both to stop working and come to it! It's Saturday and I even invited all your little friends Bulma!" She told them, not affected by the tense space between the two younger people. Bulma was beginning to relax as she listened to her mother prattle on, her anger at Vegeta slowly being replaced at apprehension at having to face all her friends in one room after she breaks up which was still unresolved with Yamcha.

Vegeta, on the other hand, was still fuming not so much at Bulma anymore, though he still had not forgiven her it was more so that his anger was now at the idea of so many people in his space. The Z-fighters were most likely the most hated humans and non-humans alike in Vegeta's mind. They had been the source of his humiliation after all and that damn Kakarot! He was inwardly stewing at the idea of that clown faced idiot walking into his area.

The Brief compound had become Vegeta's chosen territory, and as a Sayian he had the pure instincts to protect that territory and everything in it because in his mind it was in one way or another his. He growled in his chest and turned to leave only for Bulma's sharp tongue to stop him. "Don't you dare stalk off like I've forgiven you for breaking my battle droids! I won't be doing any upgrades in that gravity room until you apologize to me!" She told him a matter of factly and then turning and leaving the kitchen on the path towards her lab. Leaving a stunned and fuming warrior in her wake.

Bulma sighed sitting down with a plop into her office chair, reaching into her pockets as she began to dig out the beautiful silver lighter with the blue diamond engraved into its front, the word, "Briefs", engraved in the shiny surface and on the back the Capsule Corp. logo. It had been a present from her father when she was 19, after becoming Head Inventor for the company. Drawing out a cigarette from her pack she tossed the near-empty packaging onto her desk before lighting the cigarette and drawing in a deep inhale of the cancerous smoke.

Propping her elbow on the armrest of her chair she looked over the folders on her desk. Paperwork. It was the worst part of her job, checking off other employee's calculations and inventions before sending them for testing. It was the real reason she couldn't get to Vegeta's droids, but putting the Sayian in an irritated state was much funnier for her than the truth. She positioned the cigarette to her lips, tugging in another lungful of smoke as she smirked to herself, thinking over her and the Sayians tense friendship. It had been two weeks since she had been in the hospital since Vegeta had nearly strangled the life out of her. Exhaling through her nose she reached her free hand up to her delicate throat and brushed the skin, the bruises were long gone, after weeks of wearing summer scarves she could finally just show her healed pale flesh. There had been no talk about Vegeta's outburst or her, "Kidney stones". They had simply gone about their lives, Vegeta training and being a royal pain and her working endlessly. But beneath this there was that underlying understanding they shared, it was unspoken but felt by both. Vegeta had begun to seek her out for the most simple things, from droids being broken, him being hungry, upgrades to his gravity room, to just being around her more.

She inhaled another deep intake of her cigarette and smiled as she felt slightly, happy about this development. Shaking her head she blew out a mouthful of foul smelling smoke, she must be going crazy. But life on the compound had become very lonely like it had been when she was a child, no more Yamcha, she didn't have the same group of friends she had grown out of them, and every one of the Z fighters was busy getting ready to save the world.

But Vegeta in all his annoyingness, in all his arrogance, in all his bullheaded, self-absorbed, all his…pain. Bulma flinched inwardly flicking away the ash from the object cradled lovingly between her fingers and looked up the high warehouse like ceilings, yes he was in pain. She witnessed it with her own eyes, and the scientist knew that it ran deep. But Vegeta could leave,

but he didn't. He stayed in the compound always saying it was for the gravity room, but even still he didn't have to seek her out. He could go to her mother for food and he could go to her father for repairs, but he chooses to come to her. The cigarette she handled was nearly burned out and she inhaled a deep new lungful right before crushing it out into the overflowing ashtray.

Licking her lips of the sticking sour taste the heiress sighed and pulled the flowing locks of blue so carefully cradled by the ponytail to the side and began to lean forward going back to her work as she knew she had to put these thoughts aside if she wanted to finish this paperwork anytime soon. Vegeta would already be furious at her for demanding an apology even if it was as a jib and not a serious request, she knew having his training delayed even in the slightest always was one of the top ways to set him off into a sulk, the top way being to bring up Goku or Kakarot as he so lovingly called her childhood friend.

The burning heat of Earths summer season did nothing to keep Vegeta from his intense training exercises, his time in the gravity chamber had helped him to overcome leaps and bounds of physical limits. However he still was unable to ascend to legendary, which was another reason he did not want to be faced with Kakarot in his territory he was ashamed that a second class clown had tapped into the awesome power of legendary, and he, Prince of the Saiyan race was still unable to reach its greatness. With an angry shout of blind rage, he fired a Ki blast into the last droid that was still functional watching as it burst into a shimmering cloud of metallic dust. Panting the man fought against the intense gravity to power down the chamber which was still maxed out at 400 times the earth natural gravity because the loud woman refused to give him the upgrades! The insolent woman, always testing his patience always pushing him, he let out a growl before snatching the towel that laid on the console and wiping down his sweaty skin. Her words were replaying in the Sayians mind, "I won't be doing any upgrades in that gravity room until you apologize to me!" Vegeta sneered, how dare the stubborn heathen.

For being such a pathetically weak human she had to be the most ill-mannered, ill-tempered, overly confident, spoiled creature, he had ever met. Never failing to find new ways to irritate him and push his patience to the edge, he snarled slightly showing his sharp canines as he threw the now soaked towel across his muscular shoulder. Ever since the woman had aborted the weakling's bastard Vegeta had been finding himself drawn to her, she was free of the other male's scent no longer baring the scents of having a potential mate made the princes instincts towards her heighten. She was free to claim. Vegeta snarled again slamming his fist down on large yellow button beside the door beneath a complicated code pad that only the woman knew what was for. Slamming down on the button the sound of the locks disengaging and the thick door begins to slide open to let in the intense heat.

Walking down the ramp Vegeta let his gaze fall out over the browning landscape, the heat hitting the Sayians skin reminding Vegeta of his youth on his home planet, the desert planet always blistering with heat where nothing but the toughest was deemed fit for life. The wilting trees that lined the pristinely kept landscape where adorned with dry leaves, curling into themselves giving up on life as the quest for water were proving futile. His attention was turned to dying bush that set directly beside the Gravity room's ramp, it was only about three feet tall, and green leaves a dull shade as they rolled into themselves seeking comfort from the heat, the branches dry and frail as the pathetic plant seemed to be on its last phase of life.

He remembered the day that the banshee had planted it, he had been exiting the gravity room to only be faced with her on her knees that knot of a hairdo bobbing on her head as she patted down the freshly tilled soil around the tiny plants stem. "What do you think Vegeta isn't it cute?" He had only raised a brow at her and frowned in disgust. "Oh don't be such a grouch! My mom didn't have room for him by the pond but I didn't just want to throw him away." Standing she patted off the dirt from her hands and collected her tools. Looking to the Sayian with a serious expression. "Don't you dare think about killing him Vegeta if my rose bush dies I'll never do anything for you again!" Vegeta had frowned, it was as if he had read his mind, which he planned to get rid of the silly plant right away.

A smirk blossomed on the imposing prince's lips, his hand curling around the dying vegetation as he uprooted it from the dry earth.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Guest

Standing in her cluttered room a fight between her feminine self and the engineer that she was, was put into the physical realm when one glanced at her surroundings. High-end heels laid forgotten next to a small engine that was half apart, tools laid out here and there, makeup and clothing articles spilled out in puddles of forgotten fabric. The heiress stared at herself in the full-length mirror, her pale hands fluttering above her stomach as she smoothed out the wrinkles in the soft fabric.

The dress had been one she had purchased from her friend Thomas, a fashion designer who worked out of West City and was the Brief families top fashion consultant, he knew what would look wonderful on her figure. Thomas had an unnatural talent when it came to clothing, Bulma would swear the man was above human at times with the things he could do with fabric. The dress itself was simple, a darling violet that hugged her breast and pushed the creamy skin forward yet still modest enough to not need an undershirt, coming in on her abdomen to show her stunning curves, and tightly molding to her upper hips before flaring out in a lively skirt bottom which ended just above the back of her knees. A pair of golden heels strapped around her ankles making them look delicate wrapped in an array of golden spider webs and a 14k golden headband weaved to look like vines with a few flowers, she had to admit she looked like a nature goddess.

Leaning forward she used her pinky to blend in her lipstick on the corner of her pouty lips and then smiled her dazzling smile showing off a set of darling white teeth. She had gone with a neutral color tone to her makeup, it was sophisticated and mature but still highlighted her features adding to the theme of her outfit. Long tresses of aqua blue were curled into a waterfall of soft vanilla scented locks down her back that seemed to tease anyone who cast a glance at them to dare to run their fingers through them.

Taking in a deep breathe she exhaled and put her hands on her hips, "Knock 'em dead you gorgeous thing!" she told herself with a sly wink as she turned her back to the mirror and exited her cluttered bedroom suite. Walking down the hallway past a certain Saiyan room birthed a soft smile forming on her lips. The Prince's room was empty, she knew he was enjoying the upgrades she had made to his Gravity room, and not only the upgrades but the fixed droids as well. Walking down the stairs she began to think back to Vegeta's form of apology giving into a fit of giggles. He had pranced into her lab with his chest puffed out like a peacock, shirtless and glistening like a god of war as he held a smug grin of satisfaction. Without so much as a single word, he had thrown a half dead plant onto her desk, a spray of dried dirt and crisp leaves scattering like shrapnel in every direction. As Bulma pushed away from her desk, a ringing in her ears from just how angry she was his voice cut through like a blade as he interrupted her brewing fit. "I have saved your pathetic plant from death, I expect my upgrades soon slave woman." Crossing his now free hands over his mouth-watering chest he had exited the lab without another word. Leaving a fuming Bulma to stare at him in complete shock.

It hadn't been what she expected, but for Vegeta a man so full of his own pride and ego it was a tremendous gesture towards civility. She knew that the adjustment to living on Earth wasn't easy for him, and the Z-fighters all except Goku weren't very open to giving him a fair chance at being more than just their enemy. Her hands anxiously smoothed out the now nonexistent wrinkles from the front of her dress yet again. Vegeta had been at the compound for a year and some odd weeks now, they had already rebuilt the gravity chamber once, but still, she was afraid of him leaving. Not even because she would miss him, but because this could be his home.

She knew very well that Vegeta had been sculpted into what he was, his nightmares and fears were cloaked with black rage, and that rage guarded his brittle soul. The night he had harmed her had been so surreal she was at times afraid she had dreamed it, he acted as though it never happened but those onyx eyes…so distant lost to some unspoken terrors that haunted the Sayian. She had never seen those eyes since, but she knew they were always there, that the lost prince was always dealing with those emotions and memories. Bulma's heart ached when she thought too deeply about it, she wanted to bow her head and weep away his agony, even if he tried so desperately to hide it.

Placing a hand on her chest she drew in a deep breathe pushing all the thoughts from her mind as she focused on her reflection on the reflective surface of the Atrium doors. She had never been one to be nervous at parties, in fact, she loved parties, the people, the food, the gossip and being able to look her absolute best. Yet, something about this party was making her nervous she wasn't sure if it was because of her break up with Yamcha, or because she wasn't sure how her friends would react to knowing she had, had an abortion one which had been scantly covered up with a false story for the press.

Lifting her hand she busied herself with fixing a few wayward locks of hair, nervously chewing at her bottom lip as she thought of ChiChis reaction to her procedure, she knew that the woman was a Pro-life advocate. But wasn't every woman until they were faced with an unwanted pregnancy? She swallowed back the foul taste in the back of her throat and plastered a smile on her lips as she pressed down on the door lock. With a soundlessness that came from excellent work, the Atrium doors slid open, a world of greenery welcomed the heiress. Large sturdy trees that towered above her making her feel like a small insect, the tall trees were guarded with an array of smaller fruit trees and large beautiful vegetation. Some boosting beautiful flowers, and multicolored leaves, it was a true Eden.

In the middle of the Atrium there sat an elegantly crafted fountain, and a large grass area where her mother had set up the tables and chairs for the party, a small band was set up to play music which would be filtered in through the speaker system. Two long tables were set up with an unimaginable amount of food, from delicate fruits to the most prized slices of meat and a smaller table boosted as a beverage station to provide for the guest. All of whom were standing at the front of the fountain chatting away, except for a stray Piccolo leaning against on the giant redwoods observing all in his path.

Before Bulma had a chance to say a welcoming hello the loud cry of her name echoed out, Gohan peeking out from his mother's side as he made a noisy bound for his unofficial aunt. As the young half Sayian hugged tightly to her leg she laughed a bit of joy finding its way into her mood as her anxiousness began to fade. "Hey there, Gohan! You sure are looking handsome!" The young boy blushed and grinned as he released her and a chorus of hellos rang out to greet her.

"You look great Chi Chi!" The wife of Son-Goku looked up to Bulma with a grim smile before turning her attention back to her husband who was consuming an entire roasted pig. "Thank you Bulma, you look very nice as well. How have you been?"

As the adults dipped into conversation Gohan went to join his dad in eating, leaving Bulma and Chi Chi to catch up with half-truths and polite smiles. Tien and Chiatzou talked with Master Roshi and Krillin about some new training techniques as they held their plates and helped themselves. "I've been good, working on launching a new space shuttle line by the end of the year and keeping up with Vegeta's need for constant repairs really can wear a girl out!" As she spoke Chi Chi's expression darkened at the mention of the Saiyan Prince, she held the strong opinion that Vegeta was a monster who had no right to live on Earth no matter what gospel her husband preached about forgiveness.

With a sniff of the air as if she smelled something foul Chi Chi crossed her arms over her flat chest, "I really don't know how you can live with such a horrible man. Aren't you afraid of what he will do if he loses his temper? I mean really Bulma it's putting all of West City in danger." She scolded, her voice holding a certain sting.

The engineer felt her spine stiffen as she held back the curse words brewing on the tip of her sharp tongue, not wanting to be baited by a younger woman into a yelling match so early into the party. "I really don't see how you used to be such an impressive fighter if one little man scares you so much, Chi Chi." Her voice was playful, but the insult was lined with a smile before she lifted her hand in a mock little wave. "Oh, hey Krillin!" Calling after the little bald man she walked away from a red-faced Chi Chi with a confident sway.

The conversation with Krillin was a much smoother one, Krillin asked about how things were with the business and thanked her family for the invitation to the party. Tien and Chiatzou soon joined the easy-going conversation, talking about the past and the upcoming Worlds Martial Arts tournament. Tien and Chiatzou where considering the prospect of fighting in it. They thought it would help with their training to be faced with some new techniques, Krillin seemed open to the idea of fighting in it as well.

"It would be nice to actually have a chance of winning since Goku doesn't want to enter this year!" He added laughing a little as he shot a look to Goku who was walking over with a plate full of what looked like muffins drizzled with a chocolate frosting. "Heyo guys! Hey Bulma!" He beamed his large smile returning to his face as he waved. "Wow, Bulma you look pretty!"

Bulma giggled softly as she reached out to the Sayians plate and plucked a piece of muffin from his plate. "Hey Goku, you sure are looking stronger!" She complimented, knowing it would help the man's confidence. "Thanks, Bulma! I've been training really hard, and I've been training Gohan as well." He said his smile growing wider as he laid a hand on Gohan's shoulder, Bulma chewing on her stolen piece of muffin. "Gohan, you're looking pretty beffy soon you'll be able to beat up your dad!" The small boy beamed with pride and then flexed his arms. "I feel way stronger!" Bulma laughed when he showed off his moves, everyone else joining in to admire the young half Sayian.

Vegeta inhaled a deep breath in through his nose, he could sense the strongest of earths Ki's all congregated in the same place. He grumbled slightly and tilted his head back moving the towel to wipe the sweat that had accumulated on the back of his neck during the latest simulation that the gravity room could run. He had to admit he was impressed with the wench's ability to program such a challenge for him. The new gravity upgrades, and the battle patterns where good, she had explained to him that she had used the droids memory of his attacks to program them to be able to predict his moves. Forcing him to change out of his routine.

He felt his stomach let out a growl of hunger, his lips turning down in a frown. There hadn't been any real food in the kitchen that morning it had been deserted as the blonde air head prepared for her blasted party. "Damn female earthlings…" He muttered walking out of his gravity chamber into the blistering heat, making his way towards his quarters for a shower. His hunger outweighing his distaste for the so-called guest.

When he was finally showered and changed into his blue armor he walked into the Atrium with a scowl on his face. Slipping in almost completely unnoticed except for the Namiken, who he knew was watching him. Vegeta had been raised his whole life being observed, being watched by the spies loyal to the Cold Empire, and being made sure to obey his capture. He was no stranger to eyes watching him, even those of the damned, the ones he had personally closed for the last time. He turned his attention to the crowd, there were many people more than just the earth warriors but there seemed to be some of the Compound's constant guest. The blonde woman's loud brattling friends and some compound workers.

The prince marched forward towards the food his attention being drawn to the tables still piled with delicious meats which was seeming to be endlessly replaced by well-dressed staff. Gaze drifting among the crowd he spotted the fighters gathered on the far side of the Atrium in the wooded area as Goku seemed to be demonstrating some kicks through the empty air. Scoffing at the clown's antics the prince yanked a platter of a roasted dinosaur leg, meant to feed a large group of people would be a starter for the Sayians appetite.

He growled at a few passing people who gave him an arched stare, going to sit at an empty table as he tore into the meat with a hunger that came from aggressive training. "Hey, there homeboy!" Her voice shattered his peace of mind, her scent hit him hard making his nostrils flare as he turned to give her a biting retort. His words failed somewhere on the tip of his tongue, she looked delicious, elegant and fragile, her wide ocean tide eyes clashing with the soft purple of her dress showing off the creamy skin of her chest, the long blue tresses framing her pale face, was this heavenly being here to give him redemption. "Vegeta?" Her voice was soft as she spoke he realized he had yet to acknowledge her despite his staring.

"What woman?!" He bit out a bit rougher than was necessary as he stumbled to gain the footing in the conversation again. She raised a perfectly arched brow before grinning at him, "What's biting you?" She asked, before sitting down next to him without his permission. Going back to eating he focused on not glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "You should try and enjoy the party, besides there enough food here even you should be content." He kept one arm outreached almost encircling his food to guard it against those brave enough to dare steal from his plate, his eyes shifting now and again, back tense. Always ready, always alert, a part of him had never left the bowels of Frieza's ship.

"Oh just look at what Gardena is wearing, I swear she is such a slug..." Bulma told him, her attention on another Earth female, who had curly red hair and orange skin, she was wearing a yellow dress that was tight and short, and it reminded Vegeta of an alien race he had purged, the ampephion's, minus the gills and sideways eyelids. His nostrils flared as the scent of the woman's smoking sticks hit his nostrils, making his sensitive nose crinkle in distaste. He glanced at her noticing her obvious distaste for the other woman, she was sitting lounged in the chair her legs crossed her hair tumbling down, and one arm was thrown across her body below her breast line, and her elbow propped on it softly, the cigarette balanced between her slender fingers.

As she inhaled another lungful of smoke Bulma glared at Gardena, what a horrible woman she had been the reason Bulma's friend Daisy had her wedding called off, Gardena had been found in the pre-marital bed. "Ugh, Mother had to invite her of course, because her mother is married to one of father's close friends. Still, I don't like her, I want to punch that stupid face in." She seethed, Vegeta raised his brow his mouth full of food as he glanced at her swallowing down the mouthful of meat impressed with her urge to act on violence.

"Why is that female orange?" He asked, wondering if perhaps she was bred between an ampephion and a human it would explain her skin, but she smelled completely human. "Ugh it's because she does that spray on tan like four times a day, she thinks the tan look is just so in. Whatever, she looks like a slug." She ended, inhaling a large lungful of burning smoke. "She looks like an ampephion." Vegeta supplied, Bulma even though she wasn't sure what an ampephion was nodded in agreement, watching the way Vegeta kept always spoke between mouthfuls, unlike Goku.

Bulma had been relieved when she had spotted Vegeta sitting alone, far away from the other guest and busy party. She had been caught up in an awful conversation with Lily who kept trying to pry into Bulma's love life. The whole breakup with Yamcha had been like an under the table deal, people knew about it but not enough about it to have a juicy story. It had made her feel awkward and borderline anxious to be faced with all those questions and assumptions.

Making the simple fact that she had fallen so out of touch with everyone around her, that they didn't even know her anymore. She wasn't the same girl who had been wanting to ask Shenron for a boyfriend, she was the woman who had gone to Namek, the woman who was quickly overtaking her father's brilliance, she was becoming her own person. Yet, to become that person she was keeping dirty secrets, so was it really a good person she was becoming? Shaking her head of the thought she focused on taking the last life of her cigarette and admiring the way Vegeta's arms were so perfectly outlined in that tight suit he wore.

Vegeta tensed suddenly in his chair his fingers curling into a fist as he didn't turn his attention from his meal but ceased his eating his appetite gone at the sudden new signal of Ki, it was a horribly low power level but one that was higher than the average human. Feeling his territorial instincts surge inside of him as he glanced at the woman, who was completely unaware of the human male that had just entered the Atrium doors behind them.


	9. Chapter Eight

_  
Chapter Eight- Forgiveness

Goku looked towards his childhood friend settled so relaxed next to the only other known male Sayian left in the galaxy. He had to fight back the urge to laugh, he had to admit when the young man from the future had told him that Vegeta and Bulma would conceive a child he had been skeptical. But the more he had thought about it the more sense it made, Bulma was the only person that could stand toe to toe with the shorter Sayian. She would scream at him till her face matched her hair and not even blink at the threats that would be hurled in her face only matching them steadily with her own.

The two of them looked so natural together, her sprawled out in her chair carelessly smoking as she talked about something Goku couldn't pick up on so far away and him next to her. But what amazed Goku was the fact that Vegeta was not only tolerating the human female he was responding to things she said with ease of manner and not outright anger or yells to be left alone. Goku frowned his vision turning to the new enhancements in Ki from across the lawn his lips in a soft frown. Yamcha.

Goku looked quickly to Vegeta, his expression becoming one of worry as he watched Vegeta tense, turning his head to look at Piccolo who was sparing lightly with Gohan he had sensed the change in Vegeta's attitude as well. Before Goku could act whatever hope there was for saving the situation was ruined, Yamacha yelled out across the yard. "Yo Bulma!" It hurt Goku to watch the pain that seeped into her rather cheerful expression, he hadn't known what had happened between the couple but he had heard from Tien that Yamcha and Bulma were not together.

Goku felt a faint pang in his chest, he really should have at least visited Bulma to ask how she was once he had heard. But he had been so busy training it hadn't really crossed his mind that he should take the time to visit or that she may be in more pain then she let on. But right then and there etched on her face in the shallow lines of her skin he could see the misery that his dear childhood friend kept locked so deeply away and his guilt burned a little hotter.

Vegeta sat tense and still with Yamcha approaching from behind his keen Sayian ears able to hear each footfall, the breaths that left his lungs, how quickly he was approaching he must be in a light jog. His vision stayed ahead but he saw from the corner of his eye the woman tense, he saw her cigarette shake between slender fingers and a flash of pain. But she steeled herself quickly, her expression going mute, and the shake stilling absently taking a long drag of the cigarette. He had to bite back the growl growing in his throat he knew the weakling was behind him now, no doubt staring sickeningly at the woman. When his voice broke the silence Vegeta had to grip his fork with such a pressure the metal indented into the outlines of his grip, "Bulma, can we talk?"

She kept her eyes closed she knew if she opened them she could risk losing the focus she was keeping on her breathing, she raised the filter to her lips again and inhaled, her lungs burning. With the satisfying burn in her chest, she opened her eyes, her gaze landing on all her abandoned dreams. He didn't look the least bit distressed, a goofy grin on his lips, his body relaxed dressed in a nice green button up and khakis, his shoulder-length hair pulled back into a ponytail. "Bulma? Did you hear me?"

"Oh, I heard you Yamcha I just wish I hadn't." She hissed her fingers crushing the filter of her cigarette which she slammed it out into an empty plate in front of Vegeta. "I don't think we have anything to say to one another." She told him firmly her eyes glaring off away from his face to throw a dirty look to the onlooking crowd. This must have made their damn day, she thought bitterly, her cheeks growing a bit warm in embarrassment at being made the focus of everyone's attention in such an off-putting way.

Yamcha sighed and tucked his hands into his pockets, his eyes downcast for a moment as he spoke softly in that way he knew made Bulma more likely to comply. Making his voice soft and pleading like silk, "Please B, I just want to talk, it won't take but a minute." He promised, his eyes once again raising to see if he had won her over. Noticing the hesitation still in her expression he decided to play her anxiety at being in the spotlight. "Come on, we can go somewhere private and out of everyone's view."

Vegeta grit his teeth his eyes staring forward as he held back the growing growl his instincts where on fire, demanding he kill this weak little maggot, show his internals to the crowd prove himself the dominant male of his territory and then grab the woman showing her the weaker one's blood on his hands, and his victory. He closed his eyes letting out a sharp exhale, No she wasn't his mate…she wasn't his to claim. A little voice in his head dared to whisper, "Not yet…"

They kept staring at her, digging into her with their eyes and eavesdropping ears, she could hear their murmurs as they gossiped. None of them knew the truth, they didn't know her secret…no one knew. No one but him, but Vegeta. She knew he would never betray her, he was a lot of bad things but he was loyal to his word. She felt her chest tighten, her mouth feeling dry, like the walls of the Atrium where getting smaller, everyone was staring, everyone knew…everyone mocked her. The urge to cry hit her like a wall, and she quickly swallowed it. No, she was Bulma Briefs. Looking to Yamacha and yearning to have this sense of devastating paranoia flea her system she nodded her head. "You have five minutes and that's it. " With that, she stood up and walked with a confident grace towards the atrium doors, Yamcha hot on her heels.

The prince of Saiyans had to stop himself from reaching out to pull the woman back, to stop her from leaving his sight. The urge was so strong that it stunned the prince, shedding light on the intensity of his instinctual need to protect the woman as if she was his mate. He looked down, dropping the mutilated fork onto a half full platter, he felt sick to his stomach. How dare she leave with him? The woman dared to prance off with that weak joke of a warrior. How dare she leave his side.

"How could you just cut me off like that, B? After all the years we have had being together, you just drop me like that? I mean for real how could you be okay with doing that, that was messed up!" His voice was steadily growing in passion, the anger he had been harboring at the heiress all these weeks bubbling up inside of him from its burial spot in his chest.

He watched as she began to grow red, her eyes getting wide as she slung an arm out to shove a finger in his chest, exploding into yells that hurt his ears. "How dare I? Are you kidding me, you filthy dirty cheat! You fucked that stupid woman on our anniversary! Then you come into my home! To my families, garden party and have the nerve to talk to me! Don't you dare start trying to make me feel like shit for doing something I should have done a long time ago! Drop you out of my life!" She was on a roll her emotions were simmering, soon she worried they would boil over. "Don't you dare, don't you fucking dare try and deny what I saw!" She added seeing that look she knew all too well on his face, the look that said he was scrambling for a lie that made him come out as innocent.

He spoke with a whimsical overture to his voice, an easing tone he knew worked well on people to sway them to his side. "B, Bulma…I love you. I never stopped loving you. Sometimes no matter how much we love someone, we hurt them. We don't know why and we don't understand it. But that's okay…cause we love each other regardless. I love you Bulma I really fucked up…but don't think I never loved you." Watching her face twist, her mouth trembling as she stared at him her eyes searching for something, he smiled softly, using all his charms on the woman. "Please Bulma…" He whispered, hoping it would be the honey he needed to recapture the heiress in his web of lies.

"I, I have been hurt by someone that cared about me. They hurt me and instantly I knew they regretted it. I knew that they would take back ever causing me harm. If I had demanded they go after the dragon balls and wish that moment away, they would have. But you, you don't regret hurting me. You regret being caught." The words flowed from her tongue with no malice, no anger, she was passed the anger because in that moment she had realized something profound. Vegeta had never made excuses for what he had done to her in the hospital, he never used his words to try and make it better. He used his actions, he looked after her, and even before his nightmare, he had stayed with her. He cared about her, maybe in his own very Vegeta way but he did. He was her friend, he cared for her. Something Yamcha had long ago stopped doing.

"I'm done Yamcha, I see that now. I cant be angry at you anymore-"Before he could interrupt his expression had turned into a smile at the words she wasn't angry Bulma silenced him with a motion of her hand. "I still don't want you in life, I don't want you. I don't trust you, I don't like you. But I am done hating you because your much too pathetic of a man to hate. I pity you. You have no pride." She whispered, turning away from the taller male lifting her head high, making her way back towards the Atrium. It felt amazing to have such a weight suddenly, gone. Yamcha's calling of her name was silence as the doors closed shut behind her, reentering the garden with a newfound sense of relief. Without any hesitation, she made her way right back to Vegeta who was still sitting pensively staring at his platter of half-eaten meat. His back looked so tense every muscle outlined in the tight spandex, showing the bunching of his hard flesh. "You really should relax." She told him her hand tickling him across the shoulders before she sat back down in her chair. At her touch he relaxed instantly, his head tilting slightly to stare at the woman. She looked much more relaxed than when she had walked out, she was staring at him with those large eyes that where deep pools of refreshing blue, her lips spread out into a smile as she caught his eye and silently she mouthed the words, "Thank you." Before he could ask what for she had reached over his guarding arm and snatched some meat from his plate. Instead of bursting into a fit of rage at the action he watched as she ate the meat, somewhat satisfied to see her eating he dug back in himself.

Everyone else around them seeing there was no show to be had gone back to their casual chatter, all except the Z-fighters. Most especially Goku and Piccolo, seeing Vegeta allow someone to steal his food was one thing, but to see him allow her to touch him so casually, for them both to need no type of verbal cues. It was a sight that although they knew had to be coming watching unfold before them was a shock. Vegeta was the same man who had once nearly killed them all, every single being on earth. But here he was before them, sharing a meal with Bulma Briefs as if they were friends and always had been.

The party was a hit despite its slight hiccup with Yamcha, but later into the evening, many were saying their goodbyes to the Brief family thanking them from a wonderful party. Those that remained where the Z fighters, Bulma herself, and Vegeta. Vegeta had taken to sitting with Bulma at the table which had been cleared of a massive amount of empty plates and a new ashtray was placed for Bulma. He watched as humans came to pay their respects for the food and gathering, he was impressed with the amount of awe the woman and her family had from the other Earthlings. He knew that the Briefs was a household name, her family was the wealthiest on the planet, and the woman herself was practically worshiped in the scientific community. Perhaps her official title was not royalty but it might as well have been, a fitting place for the Prince to call home on such a backward planet.

Vegeta's realization he had thought of the Capsule Corp. Compound as his home drew forth a well of emotions from inside the Sayian, how could he a Prince, a warrior, a planet purger, a villain in the eyes of the universe have become so, soft. Had he really let go of his heritage with such gusto, such readiness to turn his back on his own people by giving away his very core, his strength, his pinnacle of the perfect warrior for this mudball of a planet. No, he would never allow such a thing to happen such a disgrace on his very name.

No, certainly not, he could not fathom fighting for this planet without gain for himself, he couldn't care less about the inhabitants of the earth, no. He could raise his hand now and obliterate all of West City and not flinch at the lose of insignificant life. The image of the planet wrecked with wicked flames of hungry heat and rage, he smirked, yes it would be an improvement to the place. The sudden sound of her laughter shattered his inner thoughts, his eyes being drawn to her soft painted lips as she laughed at something the orange slug woman was saying to her, but he could see the tenseness in the corners of her mouth, the deep set of her brow.

"Oh, Bulma that dress is simply beautiful, I'm sure if they had, had it in your color it would look simply marvelous!" Vegeta tried to not listen to what the orange woman said but unfortunately, everything she was saying was causing Bulma's brow to set deeper, her eyes to shift into the most startling brilliant blue hue, it was her battle face, he had seen it before, usually as the one causing her to make it.

But this was different, it was in her stance the way her shoulders squared and her chin lifted as if she were looking at an insect far below her feet, a mirror of himself. A Sayian stance. An unstable coil began to loosen in his gut, pulling from his tightly sealed core a vibrant onslaught of grief. A pain that before now had been neatly tucked away somewhere lost in the build-up of repression and hate, a loneliness for a life never lived. This was the key to her, this was the key to all of it, she was a piece of home.

So startled by the epiphany that he harbored these strong reactions still, he tensed his body as the presence of a spiking Ki barreling towards him had his body automatically preparing himself into a defensive stance yet,Kakarot seemed to have no interest in him instead he was attempting frantically to calm down a seething Bulma, to little avail she seemed ignorant of his new presence behind her. Vegeta cursed himself for missing whatever words had been said to spark such a rage but now that he had refocused he was slightly amused at the scene, deciding it may be worth the show to stay silent he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back studying the humans in their display of social dominance.

Bulma was no longer wearing her charming smile it had been replaced by a nasty curl to her lips, pointing a well-kept nail in the face of the slug woman, who was backed slightly into Yamcha's chest as if the weakling could offer her some sort of support against the mouthy blue haired woman." -No matter what may have, happened" With the words "happened", Bulma straightened her spine and bent her fingers over the word, "You will respect me in my home."

Placing her arms on her hips she raised a well kept brow and smiled brilliantly to a gaping Gardena, a feral toothy gesture that took up to much of her face to be gentle, Kakarot stood behind her still having taken up his habit of nervously rubbing the back of his neck while looking down towards the scuffed toes of his training boots. "Goku sees Yamcha and his-", eyes of blue mocking eyes slide over the body of the other woman with the distaste as if she saw a stain in her favorite blouse, scoffing silently and flicking her wrist the words slid off her poisonous tongue like bitter honey, "baggage out please."

"B, that's not ness-"Yamcha's voice was choked sounding as he tried to pick up the pieces of whatever conversation Vegeta had missed plummeted into chaos. Hands fumbling to retreat further into his pant's front pockets, shoulders straightening preparing to lay soothing words to Bulma's festering resentment.

"Come on Yamcha, I would love to get a look at that new hovercar anyway!" Goku interrupted easily lying as he began walking towards the no longer welcome pair in an attempt to have them follow him towards the exit. The remainder of the guest had stopped their bids to leave and were now hovering at the door not wanting to miss the juiciest piece gossip to fall into their laps since the Heiress of Heineken had drunkenly shown her breast at a new years party. ChiChi who stood holding Gohan's hand near the fountain watching what was in her opinion the classless display Bulma was putting on tugged at Gohan to join her in following her husband, yet stopped mid-step as Goku's every cheerful voice called to her. "I'll be right back Chi!" Goku waved not wanting his wife and son to have to be near the awkward exchange.

It was all the time needed for Gardena to come out of her reserve, however, and the damage was being done, "Oh Bulma, don't be so harsh, is this because I didn't tell you hello at Yamcha's place the other weekend? Don't be so sensitive." If her tone had been anymore sweet she was sure to give herself a cavity, all the while taking Yamcha's wrist to look at his watch as if she was bored with the whole exchange mid-sentence and carelessly shrugged her shoulders. "Well look at that, it's time for Yamcha and me to get going, we wouldn't want to miss dinner reservations, I just dread the food at these things."

Bulma's chest tightened, her eyes dusting over with a mix of emotions her rival's admittance to being the tanned legs that haunted Bulma's peace of mind for months now. she had already had her words with Yamcha, she had, had her closer not three hours ago and here it was clawing away at her tender chest. Hitting her like a Louisville slugger to the stomach, but she wasn't going to cry over Yamcha again, most certainly not in front of Gardena. So it only left room for her rage to boil over and see a brilliant span of red. "You bitch."

A punch begins in the footing and plays out through the body, ending in the knuckles with the impact, just as it did with Gardena's face meeting Bulma's knuckles. The crack that resounded off of Gardena's nose made Bulma smirk in victory watching as Gardena crumbled in her high stilettos on top of the grass, clutching her nose and sputtering in sobby cries. Whirling her expression towards Yamcha she balled her hand again the urge to take a whack at laying out Yamcha was burning in her, but her tongue was faster than her fist. "Get out. Get out Yamcha or so help me Kami I will let Vegeta use you as a training dummy for the full two minutes you would last!"

Realizing her breathing had turned ragged she tried to reel herself back in, there was already no way Gardena wouldn't run to the tabloids with this. The tramp liked to lap up as much attention as she could no matter the source of coverage. "I said leave!" Bulma's scream was enough to have guest pushing to get through the doors no longer finding the scene as amusing. An angry Gardena was one thing, an angry Bulma Brief's was something no one ever wanted to experience to closely. Yamcha, however, was trying to help a pitiful Gardena stand as he stared forward at the Brief heiress hatefully barking in her direction, "You can't even blame me for finding someone else when all you ever like to do is sit in that fucking lab building shit for the alien that killed me!" His voice shifted into a scream as he dropped Gardena to stand inches from Bulma. The bleeding woman cradled her nose with one hand the crimson spilling from between her wrinkled tanned hands as her other arm outreached to catch herself an indignant cry rattling from her lungs as she wailed curses and empty threats.

The crowd had melted away, the Z-fighters, her friends, none of them mattered anymore. It was just her and Yamcha, more than a decade worth of soft kisses, lies, adventures, and betrayal. Let them see, let everyone see the real Yamcha and Bulma, the couple the tabloids drooled over as the "couple to be". Let them see the ugliness it all really was, the long nights of tears, the tearing down, all the cracks that came with honesty. "You think that's what kept me away from you, the Man who killed you? Don't think for a moment that's true! She whispered earnestly so full of passion as she leaned up to whisper closely in his ear, just low enough only they would hear like the sensual lover she used to be to him, "I don't care enough that you even died to consider it a factor Yamcha." It didn't surprise her when he jerked away from her closeness, but the pure hatred on his expression did, she knew her words were cruel but it felt so good to her wounds to watch him suffer before her. He was staring at her with pain in his eyes, and it felt like a victory to cause him pain, watch him struggling to maintain his composer, his cliche act as the nonchalant. Bulma bit down on her inner cheek to stop the laugh bubbling in her a manic urge to cackle in his face and soak in his misery at this moment.

Gardena had regained her footing during the whispered confession and with the help of Chichi was holding a couple cloth napkins to her bloody nose, she was instructed to hold her head back as the other woman led her to the door where Mrs. Breifs was smiling and holding out an arm to assist. The smile was hard on her usually soft face and when Chichi reached her she offered little comfort to the wounded woman but a wet cloth for her bloodied person. "Yamcha get away from that psycho! Come on goddamnit!" The shrill grating voice had everyone with sensitive hearing flinching internally Piccolo felt a migraine starting instantly.

In their silence, Bulma and Yamcha stared at the other fresh repulsion filling their minds, the lines in the ground had been drawn whatever loose friendly terms they had somewhere reached earlier were again in flames and this time there would be no forgiveness from neither of them.


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine- Little Sins

"Bulma?" Vegeta felt like he couldn't breath, his eyes widening as he saw himself at her feet, her lips spread out into a nasty grin one that echoed something familiar. He watched as the Vegeta who was bent down before Bulma knelt, head lowered to hide the shameful expression painted on his face. "You haven't learned your place Monkey. Zarbon tells me that he overheard you and your little flea-ridden kin mocking the Cold Empire, tut tut. I thought we had learned better!" Punted by a powerful kick from Bulma Vegeta hit the ground, suddenly no longer an onlooker but the recipient Vegeta of this abuse. Her blue eyes were tinted with calm satisfaction as she stalked towards him, Vegeta did not move this was wrong. This wasn't right, Bulma didn't do these things. Agony overcame his senses as the woman put her heeled foot down onto his tail, grinding into the furry appendage with the precision of a practiced skill.

"Little piece of filth wallowing under my foot, you should be the most grateful of all my little pets!" Vegeta's vision swam as his body withered and writhed. "Ungrateful pets get punished." Stars burst out around like a big bang before his very eyes, as she scooped him up by the tail and slung him to land directly with his back into one of the large pillars that decorated the room. "Foolish monkey." The woman smiled, the one that was usually reserved for when it was just them and something they both knew crossed too many sentimental borders for him to handle. The one that secretly he loved to picture, it was cruel now on the Bulma's lips. Vegeta surged forward followed only by the memory of how these events played out in the past, he was beyond the control of this body. "I am a Saiyan!" He thundered, looking back on this moment he felt embarrassed and ashamed of how weak his attempt to retaliate looked even to him and how swiftly he was brought to a pitiful, crumpled mass on the far side of the room.

"Foolish Vegeta. Your planet is long destroyed you are nothing but what I make you." Looking up, before him stood Frieza a mocking smirk painted along his purple lips, the tip of his tail twitching behind him in anxious anticipation for the next part in teaching humility all with Bulma's sweet tender smile fixated his features.

"Capsule Corp Heiress Charged with Assault!" the words were written in shiny black ink which glared out over the cover photo, a shot of the blue haired woman leaving a ballet from a year before. A sleek golden dress hugging her frame and a shiny clutch held up to try and shield her face from the obnoxious flash of reporters cameras, all while trying to step into the black hovercar waiting for her.

Bulma sunk further into the kitchen chair, her mother busy behind her humming as she made another omelet to add to the stack. The strong breakfast aroma filtered through the large kitchen blending with the bitter scent of coffee. Licking her lips a pale hand reached out to grip the warm mug in front of her, "Well we have to give her credit, Gardena certainly didn't waste her time." Bulma growled out, her teeth setting as she held her mug inches from her lips but untouched. Being woken up at four in the morning by Greta, the family's lawyer was not a good way to start her day off, but as soon as the story started to show up in newsfeeds there between " due to erupt" and "Cute clip of Dolphins Playing" along with heading the local paper Greta had pounced into action to protect the Briefs name. "Hey, Mom, can you make sure we send something nice to Greta, she really earns her paycheck," Bulma mumbled the last few words, truly grateful to have a lawyer with the attitude of a tiger on her side, but anxious over having to use her services in the first place.

"Of course hun! I'm sure I can arrange for something. I know! Every woman just loves a bottle of wine, I'll make sure to send her a fine wine arrangement!" Her mother's voice was brimming with excitement as the idea as she began to babble off certain wines to add to the gift.

Bulma interrupted before her mother could get to warmed up to the idea. "Mom I really don't think that Greta, a devout health crazed vegan would want a basket of wines, she didn't even have wine at her wedding remember." Instead, they had replaced with wine with sparkling cider, a wedding with a dry bar was not a wedding Bulma enjoyed, so the unpleasant experience had stuck with her.

"Shoot your right, I'll send her something dear don't worry no wine!" Her mother chimed as she flipped over her current omelet with a precision Bulma could never replicate.

"Well-woman awake before noon isn't that a miracle" Vegeta's growling voice ripped through the fresh silence that had settled over the kitchen and both the Brief women jumped from the suddenness of it, Bulma threw Vegeta her best icy glare over her mug and sipped the now cooling drink smugly.

"Oh ! I was just finishing up your breakfast, triple meat omelets your favorite, what would you like to drink?" Sitting the serving platter of food in front of Vegeta's usual chair the older woman walked over to the fridge to pull out a pitcher of orange juice and turn to the prince hopefully. Bulma no longer was paying attention to what her mother was interrogating the lost prince over. Her eyes sank back to the pile of magazines and open laptop to one of the media's early morning coverage of the headline. She knew this would not look good to the board members and her father would certainly have a few new meetings to attend this week over it. Recovery from this would be a little shaky but easy, a flashy headline and "alleged" cat fights didn't win reporters rewards. But people looking is what worried her the most, people poking around too much could uncover a lot more than a sordid love triangle.

With another long draw of the cooling coffee, she began to think back to some theories on how to increase the gravity rooms durability with the limited resources of the earth. Sipping again from her mug she stifled a yawn and sighed deeply instead exhaling noisily from her nostrils. "You even breath loudly!" Vegeta's voice cracked the silence causing Bulma to blink in surprise her cheeks quickly tinting pink. "Well Excuse me Vegeta! Please forgive me your highness!" snarling she was sure her upper lip even curled with the gruffness she put into it. Vegeta's eyes brow raised at the tone and he sat back from his plate which was halfway full of overstuffed omelet.

"Well aren't you finally learning how to address me." He was growing sure she would pop a blood vessel when a nasty snorting cry of rage filled with haughty contempt passed through her clenched teeth promptly before storming out of the kitchen spilling coffee and nearly dropping her laptop in the attempt to grab it and her phone in the same hand before she finally juggled them into a sturdy grip and disappeared. "I did not excuse you servant woman!" Vegeta yelled to the empty space behind him focusing back on his omelet's.

She appeared back in the door way looking ready to rip out his tongue. Before he could warn her against it a shattering of white porcelain and cold overly creamed coffee flooded down into his lap the impact on the table corner had chipped the wood and done a good job of making such a sound Bulma's mother squawked like a startled bird. After hurling her coffee mug with all the force in her body she turned and continued down the hallway.

He was out of his seat before Bunny could gather her wits, stalking down the hallway like a rabid animal, his spandex shorts were sticking uncomfortably too his legs, droplets of coffee running down in dull brown streaks soaking into the bands of his socks even though she had turned and fled, he could smell her suffocating inviting scent hanging heavily in the air, a pleasant warmth where her body had just been all mingled with the scent of coffee.

He sulked out of the back door of the house that bleeds out onto the large patio with snakes of walkways, he knew which one she would have retreated slam of her laboratory door sounded the location of her refugee, his fist tightened at his sides his gloves squeaking with the setting of his teeth. "Wench!" The roar vibrated in his throat, dying out into the open air. He felt her Ki spike and wondered amusingly if it was from fear, the thought was appealing.

The lab door dented in the middle for the third time, the loud impact sounding like a cannon as she jumped holding a hand over her lifting breast to steady the erratic heartbeat she was sure the damned Prince could hear. "Vegeta you stop that right now! Stop ruining my door!" She shrieked, anger flushing down her neck like the spill of hot oil. Fixing that door would take up a lot of necessary time, even more, vital than usual due to her little game of bop the bimbo.

"Then open this door!" The volume of his demands had her lips turning pale as she huffed out through her nose, her hands slamming down onto her work table with enough force to have them stinging. "Why would I open the door to a fucking maniac!" Her own scream was muffled by the sound of yet another blast, this own made the locking device groan in protest lights starting to blink in distress.

Before he messed up the inner wall mechanics any further she bit the bullet and ran over to the door quickly. Nearly tripping on her flats as she punched the blue button that sent the broken barrier into release mode. The warped metal could no longer slide smoothly into the wall and instead clanked noisily as it opened a few feet. Stalking in with a shadow cast over his face he stared her down and her blood began to grow cold. "When did you upgrade your little box Bulma."

He didn't say her name often and whenever he did, it sent a cocktail of extraordinarily complex responses through her body, some of which were more mortifying than others. "The same shielding as on the inside of the gravity room to absorb blast would benefit the security systems of Capsule Corp." She replied automatically, her mouth working out the sentence she had pitched time and again to the board through more complex terms in order to be approved for a mass upgrade. After what Vegeta and Raditz had done years before was enough to have nearly everyone in quick agreement.

"Tsk tsk, Bulma seems like you haven't been selflessly slaving away for me after all, I should be hurt." He replied lowly the sarcasm in his tone was biting enough but the look he kept giving her was unnerving, he was studying her as if she were a rabbit, and he was the clever fox. "You didn't put up those doors just to keep me out did you…" He taunted, she felt herself turn a little pink he was calling her a coward. Blue eyes turned sharp as she stared at him, straightening her spine like a crane with her head held at full height.

"If I really wanted to build doors to keep you out, I would just make the access switches higher." She hissed, taking a jab where she knew it would bleed quickly. He growled lowly and stalked forward but she stood still he was trying to back her into the wall near the control panels for the doors. Taking a step to the left she began to circle around him and he moved with her. "You have a sharp tongue wench, too bad you don't have the strength or even aim for that matter."

She was trying to maneuver so she could bolt out of the open doorway if they kept up this half circle stalking she would soon be with her back to it. "It was just a cup of cold coffee Vegeta are you really going to be such a dick." She pleaded finally, her hands throwing up at her sides for effect. "I am the prince of all Saiyans and I will not be treated like one of your pathetic friends!" Bulma's face contorted into anger, so he wanted to go back to this bit about his wounded ego. "Grow up Vegeta! This isn't your home planet!' She knew instantly bringing up Vegetasi was a bad idea, but the words were out now and she wasn't going to apologize.

"This disgusting mudball reminds me every day I'm not on Vegetasi, I would not have to tolerate pathetic weaklings you mewl over, your idiotic mother prattling and your loud mouth everywhere I go! It is painfully clear to me that this is Earth! It will never be my home!" He roared his hands were into tight fists his breathing was beginning to race. He hadn't planned to become so angry, he wasn't even that upset over the coffee, but it was what came quickest to his mind. He was becoming more enraged with every second she stood there, gawking at him.

What had he been thinking over the passing weeks, what had ever possessed him, the Prince of all Saiyans would ever find company in the arms of a weak little human. "You just want to come sniffing around me like a bitch in the heat because that disgraceful boy finally had enough of you too, pathetic." She cracked if only for a moment he caught the familiar pangs of betrayal played out on her face, but she was quick to recover with respectable swiftness.

"Vegeta." She hissed, the word slithering out like a skinny snake from between her lips. "The idea of you staying in my home any longer then you have to is sickening. My mother spends hours toiling away in the kitchens for you, this Earth was a victim of your terroristic behavior and still, we invited you in! I invited you in. But you make no mistake, you're not welcome anymore. You are tolerated. Get out." Her tone lost none but instead grew in its animosity, she stared at him as if he were nothing. Just another compound employ who stepped out of line.

He felt the fire in his belly consume him and in a moment he was before her, his teeth locked and hands in tight balls at his side. He was mere inches from her his body was on a trigger trembling to release all the energy squirming inside of, him down every vein and in all his pores. Staring down at her, he glared, her face was unusually pale in the cast of his shadow amplifying the shine in her hardened stare.

"What not going to call me a sick little pet name? Where did all that sickening forgiveness go Woman? All that sickening human compassion, you poisoned me with. Not so giddy now are you, not smirking at me now!" He screamed his lips brushing against hers, disgust skimmed through her blood as she felt his spit hitting her face, seeing his veins bulge in his neck. He slammed his fist against the walls of her lab, finding it absorbing his impact and jarring the bunched muscles of his arm. "You lizard." It was a snarl that barely sounded like any language except beast.

"You monster"

"Don't forget your own little sins."

The ringing of skin on skin vibrated out like a bell its tolls echoing off the sterile lab walls, overshadowed and swallowed by the sheer magnitude of the action. "Get out." The tiny words were distant and small coming from her lips, her face red but blank of expression.

He forced all of the over-whelming ki beneath his feet, propelling himself skyward. A shower of debris hailed down, Bulma being thrown back against the wall from the force of his takeoff, redding skin developing on her legs from a stinging burn of ki. The sounds of her staff and mother running her way were drowned out by the ringing echoing around somewhere deep in her ears. Bulma stood back up grimacing at the pain that lanced down her back, but she wouldn't let anyone see her down and defeated, not her worried faculty and parents and never again a Sayian.


	11. Chapter Ten

_ Chapter Ten: Excusing Conversation _

In life, there are no such things as excuses. These words were shared with her by her father when she was young. Memories of what provoked them were vague but Bulma in her innocent youth clung to them. Tucking each syllable away somewhere in her mind to draw them back out whenever she went to blame her lack of success on a project or a personal block. No such thing as excuses.

Even now they whispered as she studied the gaping hole in the roof of her precious home lab a crew was busy setting up cranes to aid in repairs. She was taking this construction as a chance to redo her entire lab, having decided to focus on work in the main buildings collaborate more with her whole team in person then just emails and brief meetings.

The excuse to avoid Vegeta could not be ignored, the puff of smoke from her lips disappeared around her, whatever had happened to them in that lab looking back was surreal. Strange mirage of events that left her thoughts swirling without any relief bubbled back up as she thought to what led to her lab's rebirth.

Momentarily her attention returned to the workmen ripping apart her treasured retreat exposed mechanics and wiring jutting from the bare wall's set her facial expression grim. Having given up on trying to just conjure up excuses for vegetas behavior Bulma had decided to simply solve the mystery around the Sayian. One task far more challenging then the genius would like to admit and having gone over their whole altercation repetitively she still arrived at the mute point of nothing useless excuses that made no sense. Burnt to the filter the cigarette fell onto the concrete menacing purple heels ground it into a stain.

Goku sat carelessly on the rocky ledge his brightly colored gi fluttering loosely around his sculpted body. The ocean reminded him always of his childhood the expansive sea was the cradle of his early years of intense training, where he and Bulma had first met the turtle hermit. Crashing waves broke against the jagged peaks of rock's that built up the side of the seaside cliff. The destructive surges of salty waters an identical tint in an ode to his oldest friends bizarre hair, Goku smiled glancing at that very woman.

Bulma had aged with grace and firmness that spoke of perfect genes, it sometimes confused him how her family stayed so perfectly unchanged since he had met them as a mere boy. But the Briefs had laughed away his questions as a boy and did so now even as a man. Gokus stomach fluttered at the feisty bluenettes sigh while leaning her head on the large fighter's shoulder.

"What happened on Namek?" her voice was gentle carried on the breath of a weighted sigh, "I see it, Goku. I know its there." She finished in a whisper her energy draining from a night of no sleep and stressful conferences and long phone calls to deal with ugly headlines and bad Sayian tempers.

It is a burden to hold the knowledge of your friend's fate, completely unable to lend her the comfort that it would be alright in the end. Honestly, he wasn't even sure if it would be alright, a child did not guarantee happiness, nor was the child even completely guaranteed in this timeline. Or was the timeline a set of events forced to take place or where the timelines completely split separately. He shook his head of the confusion that time travel invoked in him. Goku the most powerful creature in the universe was utterly useless to the most beloved of his companions. "Haven't you heard already from Piccolo or Krillin?" Nervously Savior of planets rubbed the back of his head like a wayward child. feeling the sickly taste of guilt he could offer Bulma no soothing balms to her hurts. Anything he said could affect a various amount of unknowns some of which might ultimately affect their timeline in an incomprehensible way.

Yamaha hadn't survived to Namek but knew the story, had heard it from Krillin who had heard from Goku. Goku had been extremely discrete on details not directly correlated to fighting and technique leaving guarded the emotional outburst of Vegetas plea to avenge their race. "Yamcha is a little biased considering Yamcha blames Vegeta for his death!" she exclaimed life returning briefly to her defeated tone. Goku winced as he felt Bulma pull away from him obviously hurt from his deflecting of the subject. They had been adventure partners since childhood and little could be kept from one another. Bulma knew his personality traits keenly enough to see when he didn't want to say something.

"Goku come on, please give me something! I get your whole noble, "it's not my place", stance but I'm living with the guy! There is only so much of his annoying peacock act I can take! Do you hear me Goku!" Bulma's voice transformed into full-on yelling by the end of her admittance her ocean eyes storming like the crashing waves that battered the cliff side. Scrambling to her feet being reckless so near the edge of a perilously steep drop. Hands planting on to her hips she leaned toward Goku's black eyes widening in surprise no matter how many years passed this would be the fiery Bulma he remembers.

"Tell me right now or I am going to clobber you!" Authority flavored her voice causing him to grin sheepishly with boyish fear.

"Aw, Bulma come on please don't be like that!" pleading loudly his hands came up in defense.

Standing himself he captured his friend in a tight hug crushing her threats against his chest. A sobering atmosphere settled around them both as she embraced him with every ounce of strength in her human body. They had not really intimately touched since his encounter with the Sayians and Bulma clutched onto the fighter who had been her younger brother for so long. Throbbing pulsated in back of her eyes betrayingly stinging with tears as Bulma took a watery breathe a lifetime of secrets loosening on her tongue.

The weight of the passing months seemed to become apparent to them both and the contact seemed more needed than before. The heiresses confessions were swallowed by Goku's "There's a little good in everyone. And most of the time, bad people are only that way cus' they don't know any better."

The next stop on her path to avoiding excuses for the Prince came in the form of a lanky her personal therapist. She had explained the situation in complete honesty since as her therapist Manko could do little as far as gossip was concerned. Trusting little with information on her house guest strict confidentiality agreements were enforced upon anyone who maintains intimate contact with the Briefs. Having explained the behavior and given what little information on background she had of the Sayians past she had been sent home with what lay before her now on the laboratory desk a blue pamphlet with the carefully printed words "PTSD and your loved one." Included within a list of the common symptoms of the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, mood disorders, sleep deprivation, trouble socializing and forming emotional bonds. Bonds of any kind for that matter. Night terrors, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, obsessive traits, trust issues, paranoia, perfectionist traits, angry outburst really the list just went on if you unfolded it.

Racking a trembling pale hand through her blue tresses the heiress blew out a noisy breath. She was a genius most likely the smartest woman no the smartest being in this part of the galaxy yet here she was being ignorant of a man's obvious trauma. Demonizing him for it? She lit a cigarette looking over the half-empty bottle of wine tracing the dog-eared label with her fingertip. Can you demonize the devil? Frustrated her hand wrapped around the back of the bottle keen on strangling it, tipping it to her lips her free hand fled to her chin to catch the droplets that rolled along her skin. She knew he painted scenes for audiences of a sadist and he enjoyed his art. More sayian than Goku and far crueler a mixture of a tyrant. But hasn't he rebelled against the true tyrant hadn't he been a victim himself of nightmares crushing enough to cripple even his precious pride. Slamming down the bottle after noisily gulping her face tinted red with effect improperly huffing out the held breath her puffed cheeks depressing, creamy skinned hand dug into her lap coats pocket for her pack of cigarettes. Aggravated her gaze fluttered to the folder that held a plethora of freshly printed information regarding mental health issues in soldiers of extremely traumatic situations. Some of the governments and militaries information were gathered in less than savory experimentation on unwilling or unknowing subjects so findings were not printed in public medical publication, Bulma Briefs was not the public.

Flipping her shiny lighter open she lit the end of her cigarette inhaling strongly as she dragged it toward herself flipping it open carelessly. As she read her hands pulled out an ashtray from the drawer to her right and her cigarettes dwindled away into a crushed pile of browned filters. It was the only way to tell the passing of time in the basement lab which had been forced out of its retirement due to her personal labs being graced with a makeover thanks to a certain Prince.

No clocks had been mounted since she glanced at her phone or watch for the time it had been an unneeded weight to carry down. When 3am found it's way around Bulma yawned unaware of how late her reading had taken her. Most of the findings were in line with what had discussed with her but there was more detailed casework before her here.

Even though these soldiers where humans she still could plainly correlate the soldiers from the militaries study and Vegeta's own mannerisms. The outburst of violent rage was common, it could be triggered by paranoia and anxiety. The more she read a sort of terrible glee settled over her heart, in her hands, she held an understanding of the Sayian and in this new found understanding she also felt sickened that he suffered so completely within his own mind.

There was absolutely no way she could address Vegeta with any of this information. He would take that as a hefty plummet into the depths of pity the utmost sin to commit against his Sayian honor. Heady laughter exploded from her lips as she nearly crushed the paper she was holding, don't even get him started on honor. The sound became something strangled as she buried her head in her hands, there were medications for these sort of things mingle that into her genius the birth of a Sayian strength mood stabilizer couldn't be a impossible stretch.

Intended high and mighty Saiyan would also splatter her into every corner of her basement retreat, no such a thing would never be tolerated. Another click of her lighter and her fingers shook, what if he didn't ever know? Torrents of thoughts became replicated in the length of graying forgotten cigarette.

What if he never knew? Cursing herself she tossed the ashen bud away, no she could never control him never lie to him. It would be an offense that would result in the extinction of earth as she knew it. Crippling was the knowledge that she would be proving any of his paranoid fueled disillusions.

No more used to kindness than a bird to the depths of the sea he will justify it only as a scheme to do him more harm. Bulma was not a patient woman and that was the only useable tool for this painfully awkward situation.

Patience be damned was the heiress only thought when it came a third Vegeta-less day.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven: Eruptions

Red. It was a theme in the universe in nearly every galaxy you could find the splash of vibrant hues, lazy timid seas that languished into orange marshes, blistering suns, extraordinary textiles, jewels.

Swiftly consuming flames to once grand palaces and homes, the burn of hungry fire devouring corpses that stared gaping stupidly out into the melting blaze. Life essence spilling forth from paper thin torn flesh, peachy skin tones eerily similar to humans, eyes screwed shut hard enough it even colored blackness tainting memories with its shade.

Red. The color of blowing sands, sun-baked fields of crackling lands, to the wind shaped pillars that curved into the air like twisted spears whipped and sharpened by the harsh natural sandblasting. Glistening like jeweled teeth in the blaring of the suns, all magnificent shades of striking homeland red.

It was the fury that ran through his veins, the tightening behind the breast whenever his rage raised its maw to scream it's discontent, the color of his crest, of honor. How dare all he sees be blue, blue eyes, blue hair, it was even in her ki, in her scent.

Something primal ripped from his throat, drowned away by the pathetic wailing of the reptilian creature beneath him. The powerful eotryannus cousin like dinosaur bellowed it's misery, it's back leg torn from its body strewn somewhere to its right, flopping into the ground it kicked the pitiful remaining limb, tail slapping noisily against the dirt withering bonelessly.

Unfiltered emotion seethed within his chest, how could he have lost control so easily. Why had she betrayed him with those blasted doors, an action akin to the sly guilefulness of Frieza? Heavy once white boots crushed the windpipe shattering carelessly the hefty neck bones, moving on to the next in the small pack he hunted. All for hatred of those disgusting tails the thin tipped things that wiggled like worms reminding him of the lizard.

Why must the knowledge that she had never betrayed him ring so hallow yet true? Logic is nothing to the buzzing in his head when he sees a likeness to that horrible beast and yet he knows she would never tear so thoughtlessly at his honor. That woman stood an equal on a planet of nothing, yet in turn, blinded by the anger he destroyed her nirvana. Letting barbed tongue slice deep to scar her bleeding heart.

Enraged Splintering light bellowed outward scrubbing from existence all around him. Densely compacted forest disappeared a newly cleared edge to the treeline now out of sight to even the keen eyes of the alien trespasser.

If Nappa breathed now he would be unable to control his mocking laughter, Vegeta Prince of Sayian throwing a tantrum over causing harm to a woman's vapid emotions. He would not sully the name of Sayians, he would not turn on toe mewling apologies!

Lustrous stone flared around him the melting energy he had sent out in his anxiety fueled attack having polished away living things and worthless earthen mud replacing all with barren sleek stone.

"Death did not offer solace, Freiza's body was dead but he lives still, and oh, the joy the freakish purple- something is coming. " Internal dialogue died with a throaty growl.

He focused harder on reading the low Kis, in this newly barren land he finds it easily. The woman. Gloved fist curl shaking in fury, in all their battles all the times he has left she has never once followed.

Like a scaly snake, something akin to worry slithers into his chest from his stomach and he must stomp on it before it can poison him. To her credit, she land's without so much as a whisper.

He has heard many times the old man brag, "My little girl always could fly anything even Galactic space cruisers weren't safe nothing too tough for her at 4 years old too." Pride oozed from hisevery pore as he prattled and shamefully Vegeta had wondered more than once at how it must feel to receive such a look.

Dismissing his thoughts the prince's spine stiffened for battle his teeth baring, each of his fingers curling in agitation he busies them by digging his fingers into his forearms as he crosses them along with his chest. Sleek chrome and stripped vibrant blue fitted the outside of a humming engine cover, the stamped insignia of her family crest glinting in the light as she pulls to a stop. The woman's favorite air bike is only to be glared at for a moment before the eyesore is consumed in thick smoke.

The Harsh wind whipped each escaping hair of the messy twisted ball that held it tame, fanning them against her tinting cheeks, the newly formed landscape baked in the unforgiving Sun blistering the air in hazy trendless of visible heat.

"You know this whole blowing up everything in your path because you're having a bad day thing, it's getting old." her teasing voice fall's flat and is burned away between them in the fuming air. "Leave. I don't remember asking to be followed around by some simpering little human." He makes her cheeks sting worse then any blistering Sun and she forgets her plan the moment the word human rolls off his snideing tongue like a depraved insult.

"Excuse me, I just drove three freakin hours out into what ONCE was a very beautiful redwood forest to find your pigheaded ass!" All of his willpower is split between covering his ears to shield his sensitive hearing from her shrieking or blast her offensive presence into memory.

Pitches of that caliber should only be reachable of the csopranonians the angelic featured species known as the galaxies choir, the planet had been silenced by the deafening roar of Sayian power. It was the same power rolling in his veins pounding in his ears his stare alone should crush her fragile bones yet she bares the weight of it head-on. "Well, how am I to be blamed for your brainless planning you blasted whore!"

There isn't time for him to tack on how an invitation to follow, never left his lips before she reaches to the belt of capsules, another thick puff of smoke and from its haze he can see the ery glow of a red mechanical glare. There is the scent of burning Ki followed along by a painfully high pitch squeal of whirling cylinders, from the depths hidden by the thick capsule cloud burst concentrated blue, not the blue color of the woman's hair but blue the color of madness and fury found in her gaze.

Blurred by the speed he lifts his hands to contain it, but it slams into him completely foreign, this is not Ki. He fumbles for a moment until taming It becomes a laughable tactic.

Crackling the burst explodes with impact leaving only the echoes of his bodies dull thuds as the Prince rolls to a messy stop along the blistering landscape. Ill feeling shock crawls along his aching spine throwing out a hand he pushes himself up, his face must be betraying his inner emotions because the woman is smirking like she just won some prize.

"I'm sorry I didn't hear that prince, but before you try again you better know that this baby is currently in it's the lowest setting but things change fast!" The air has cleared standing with a cylinder chambered blaster clutched in two dainty hands, her windswept sky ending hair curling into the hollows of her throat as the slash of her mouth mocks him like a dangling blade.

He knows he could kill her but something in his instincts whispers danger, she may be made of glass but in her mind he had no doubt lay the schemes that could undo worlds. Whatever sort of blaster this woman has he knows without a doubt she is responsible for its infuriating existence, only she could bring a Sayain to his knees with casual indifference.

Fury blurs his expression and he surges forward like a consuming wave and before he can break upon the shore to drown all in his path he is sent sprawling into the ground by two whirling projectiles that knock the breath from his lungs and crushed his pride.

"Gonna play nice?" He has never wanted to kill her more than now. The rage releases like spilling cards as he roars in fury. Stumbling back onto his feet she follows his staggering with the subtlest movements on her wrist.

"I didn't come to fight Vegeta!" He readies himself for his banishment from her home. To have to threaten and demand he be allowed his chamber.

"I brought food too! We're having a picnic!" Perhaps it is the tingling of his reddened skin from

her weapon or the ringing in his ears from her screams but something holds him in place. "There's a really epic thing happening not too far from here and I want you to come with me."

Bulma swallows past the fear in her throat as she taps her finger on the side of her weapon. When he raises his hands she can't help but trace the trigger guard with vigilant intent to defend herself. He must be impressed because no obliviating comes, instead, he crosses his arms and levels her a glare she would wager was bred into the royal line for its ferocity.

"I even brought you a clean suit and I cross my heart that you'll like the surprise lunch and it's entertainment." Shrugging her shoulders with ease she fights against every shred of self-preservation and holsters her gun into the loop of her pants. Planting her hands on her hips instead as she leans in his direction. "Unless you rather I blew you back onto your short ass again!"

An ear ringing squeak releases her throat when in the next millisecond he is in her face his gloved hand cupping her chin as he forces her gaze to his. "Do not push it." Shoving her away with more force than needed he crosses his arms once more and stares fixedly to the left.

"You better not have bruised my beautiful face you Sayian jerk!" Another cloud of smoke and there laying across her arm is a combat suit that isn't grim ridden and ripped. Smelling like sweat and blood, not all of it belongs to him she's sure. "Here take this and meet me at the picnic, unless your high and mighty powers can't read my pitiful ki."

Snatching the suit from her far more aggressively than needed, Vegeta's voice growled: "My princely body is not some peek show for lowly human trash." This time the sound of her guns whirling gives him time to dodge the oncoming blast, leaving her standing alone cursing the empty space.

Bulma leaned back resting her weight on her elbows as she jammed her neck back to stare up at the flattening top of the volcanic ledge above her. Thick darkening smoke bogged from its gaping mouth as earth-shaking rumbles echoed from its mammoth belly.

Mt. Shahimway currently the world's most active and dangerous volcano spat a noisy spray of molten rock and fire causing Bulma to shift and readjust her plasma charged shield that gave her canopy of protection over a ten-foot radius. Just a little something she had whipped up for this very occasion.

Large enough for one of her mother's picnic blankets and a sayian sized lunch of sandwiches, pasta chicken salad, roasted turkey legs, and nine lasagna's her mother had packed while prattling about missing meals being a household theme. Along with two cozy fully pillows for then to lounge on as they ate. Food was a key to Vegetas good graces and if it meant things between them could resume their specific brand of normal she would have packed twice as many lasagnas.

She was nervous he would tuck his no longer surviving tail in a prideful refusal. Bulmas lips spread with a delighted grin at the memory if the Sayian plodding across the shiny ground. How many times had he comes barging in and she wished to do that! Enough that the genius had reached into her wishing well creating a weapon that pulls latent Ki from the air around it feeding it through a chamber that fuses them with currents of radiated energy to produce Negatively charged Ki. Giggling to herself at her own cunning pale hands rummaged her loose locks fluttering over her chest to secure the drawstring belonging to the flowing white top.

Vegeta drifted toward the Earth with his heart pounding he felt nervous like a young boyish fool all around the woman. Half terrified he would lose his temper and slaughter her finally while constantly struggling not to give in to this burning desire to dominate the crazed seas of the woman's passion with his lust.

Pin picks danced across her blast wound that he wears with a ripe masculine pride he whispers comparisons; a female sayian would not have done much different except draw blood and bone. The woman excited his blood the similarities nursed his pride at being flung across stone like a disregarded toy.

It was a perverse show of affection to seek him out to demand his attention through battle, demand submission and then offer substance and healing. One could say it borders courting.

Scents of her birth givers cooking unfurl the string of his thoughts, his superior nose can make out each spice of every dish the scent of sweet meat makes saliva pool in his mouth. The humans call it sausage it's a specific type but he is a prince such little details as a type of Earth sausages are beneath him. The sweet meat as he remembers it is layered in doughy paste coated sheets topped with pungent goo. Decidedly one of his most enjoyed earth meals.

Their meal is shared in respective silence, Bulmas anxiety dwindling each moment Vegeta remains. Waiting until he is on to a capsule of desserts before speaking to ensure his three days of hunted meals doesn't affect his attitude.

"I got my lab redone. It's rather nice I even have a special room to test sayian strength equipment so I can stay out weapons RD! They're getting pretty tired of maintenance being in and out anyway."

He is listening she can tell in the way his inhaling of yellow icing cupcakes. Continuing her manicured nails pick agitatedly at a loose thread in the maroon threading of her cushioned pillow. "When you decide to come back you'll have to help me test a new droid design for your training. I've upgraded their speed but it took from their shielding so I'm not sure how they'll survive your beatings."

No reply now she was practically yanking at the thread her teeth worrying the tender flesh of her lower lip. Begging him to return would make her appear weak, demanding he return will push him further. The notion he is welcome, no, expected to return should be enough for him.

"Well, are you going to say something you incredible jerk!" Bulma waved her hand out in his direction splaying out her fingers as the snapped maroon thread floated aimlessly between them. "You did not bring me anything to drink this meager meal down with." Weakly his upper lip twitches beating down the grin nearly escaping. Whatever she plans to say is momentarily forgotten beneath a world-shaking roar.

Every muscle tenses in preparation for battle sayian senses sharper than humans he can hear the trembles deep within the earth and for the first time is aware whatever this mountain is it is alive. Can he feel it breathing?

Bulma stands suddenly very attentive as her hands lift shading delicate against the sun. All of her attention is now captured by the raw physical power of the spurting fire and magma. It hits the shield dissipating with the sizzle of a hot skillet and the human doesn't flinch. She is sure of her inventions and no doubt they will work crosses her mind in the face of this ancient terror. Vegeta watches impressed that earth can be home to something so powerful. The world quakes falling silent beneath a blanket of smog that covers the suns rays. Churning frothing lava replaces all sources of light casting erry shadows over the paleness of the woman. He watches her as she stares upward the heat and energy of the air seeming to play visibly around her.

He has never seen something so beautiful, her hair is loose fighting the wind as red light cast her in a spotlight of fire. Flimsy earth material clings to her feminine figure, outlining her curves as it is slung against her skin by the whirling wind. Burning rock storms around her as it slams with furious clatter down upon the land. Glorifying amoung it all as if it is her doing, this sky-colored goddess burning the lands.

As streams of the molten fluid rush toward them, he muses how she stands among a burning world with the grace of a queen and he can not help but think it is where she belongs.

Their silent reverence is broken when the woman's shield lets out a whine and she begins to pop her capsules to pack away their picnic and deploy her bike. Whatever this was it helped she feel like it's lighter between them, she's shown him he doesn't have to sulk. He can come home and she isn't holding grudges for what he did to her lab. After all, she got to shoot him how many people could say they blasted the Prince of all mighty sayians onto his royal butt! Vegeta looked at the woman's bike smirking as he turned away from her with his arms. "Pitiful excuse for transportation for a pitiful specimen."

"Whatever bud, with as much training as you missed I bet I could floor you in a race!" A challenge? Oh, he loved when she challenged him.

"Then we shall race and I shall show you superior sayian see-. " Reviving engines interrupted him as a blur of blur and chrome disappeared and a hell storm of firey rocks announced her departure. "You cheating sow!"

Summoning the Ki beneath his feet he surged into the winds, seeking out her Ki to follow her path. It took a few seconds longer than he expected and a smirk flashed over his features. She was leading him to capsule corp. Fearlessly at breakneck speeds, she coaxed death to follow and Vegeta could not deny her.

He would deny any remarks of the sweat that beaded his forehead and the frantic rise and fall of his chest when he finally touched ground among a cluster of dome buildings. The woman's whirling bike only a breath behind stopping with a skid at a rate he was sure would have thrown a lesser driver.

"Your machine may have faired better if not for the lazy human weighing it down." He drolled out the answering screaming was all the welcome home he would ever need.


	13. Chapter Twelve

_  
Chapter Twelve Savior

In the absence of light, all shadows become, themselves unseen, mingled into one another creating a monster of darkness. In the belly of darkness sulks great power, lurking in the veins of the beast who wields it. Seething the muscular sayian prowled to and fro relentlessly pacing vainly hoping it will ease the anxiety.

Here, his Sayian eyes see in a gray-tinged sheen, clear but dull cast. Still, Vegeta feels it's intensity a suffocating sense in the air that stings him in the worse of ways. No, nothing can compare to this agitation, where was the woman? Where were the light and the power to run the gravity simulator which now serves as avoided entrapment?

Squeezing anxiety contracted his innards, panic fluttering like a wayward bird within his breast. They were here, the gazes invisible but undeniably felt. Mocking feminine laughter rode the tails of thunder dread spilled down his spine an oily sensation that had the First Class Elite growling in furious outrage.

Splintering light destroyed the atramentous entrapment, stiffness in his neck becomes more evident as he snaps it to the window drawn in like a willful moth. In the glowing cast, he sees her swiftly gliding across the grounds, soaked in a clinging lab coat and barefoot.

The prince's breast expands in a rapid breath, she approaches the deligent preserver of light. Relief floods his chest draining uncomfortably into the pool of his belly. Pulling his gaze from the window directing the weight of his scowl onto the door. Counting the seconds until like thunder her tiny fist are pounding on the heavy metal doors.

The speaker by the door a small box he paid no mind to before crackled with static then,"Vegeta are you okay! Vegeta goddamnit say something!"

Shivers sprawl along his skin, she sounds panicked her voice straining under the weight.

"Get me out of here you bitch!" Crying out like a wounded beast as his fist clinched restraining all sayian instincts to be free by force.

Nothing only silence and her dull thudding beatings against the gravity chambers door.

A couple popping crackles from the black box had Vegeta moving toward it rapidly.

"Press the square button on the speaker for me to hear you Vegeta! Hold it down as you speak."

Trembling to reel in his anxious shaking he swallowed back his sudden fear at crushing the flimsy button in his current state.

"Woman release me!"

Flinching at how weak it sounds leaving his mouth hastily moving to stand before the door he hears the faint sliding of her hands from the metal and absently he traces their paths with his own from inside the chamber. Through thick leather gloves the doors coolness is unfelt, heat instead floods his frigid stomach with a thunk his head plops carelessly against the reinforced steel.

"It's okay Vegeta", she uses the tone she used for Goku on the nights he clung to her sweating from nightmares of giant apes and moonlight,"I'm going to fix this just give me 3 minutes." The loss of her hands through metal only aid in the intensity of this suffocating void he is caged within. Tearing free from his sanctuary may banish any hopes of legendary power to face the androids with yet, remaining is proving too painful for the Prince.

Silence follows her decree the tiny speaker dying out with a crackling whine. Alone again he felt the unease slinking in, the sudden promise of freedom only aided his anxious state the seconds stretching lazily into years.

Two minutes and thirty-six seconds later the doors lock tumbled from their holds eerily loud without the usual hum of electronics. Suddenly the void is chaotic noise, sound from the outside world, consuming the empty space.

Wailing winds and splattering rain, erry rumbles of growling thunder stalking the electrically charged air. Depraved sayian senses drank in the deafening storm before the door was halfway slid apart he had exited the moment his bulk would ease through the gap.

Freedom came in wet pelting sheets of heavy rain, soaking his exposed skin instantly. Face to face with the woman she was sprawled out on the lawn beside the ramp muddy from wallowing in the mud of a forgotten rose bushes cradle.

Strewn around her like fallen enemies lay an army of tools, popped capsules and what he can only guess was once pieces of the gravity chambers siding. She is filthy covered in mud and adorned with clinging blades of grass and debris, wet hair sticking to her skin with layers of grease that shined from beneath their layer of moister.

Seeing him reignites all of Bulmas energy her brief brain malfunction due to relief passing. Standing up she lunges for him stopping just before his chest her hands hover mere inches from his chest.

"Kami, I tried to get here faster Vegeta. Are you alright?" Bulma tries to pull in the worry from her tone it is a dangerous hook waiting to bait him into a rage against forms of pity.

Vegeta knows that his hands have torn apart worlds, scrubbed away cultures from their place among time, scattered planets across the emptiness of space in a fine dust. Exploding light surges the sky illuminating the curls of her lashes coated with tiny beads of water, the droplets disappearing into the torrent of rain as she blinked her wife eyes nearly shattering his resolve. Terrified his hands trembled as they gripped the fingertips of his gloves on his right hand. Flinging the garment aside into a deep forming puddle with the inhuman speed it still felt like a nervous eternity.

Before she would question him before her doe wide eyes could dare break the spell he had fallen so willingly until he reached a hand that has lifted only to deliver agony and ash. Barley allowing the briefest of contact the very tips of his fingers traced the delicate curve of the woman jaw.

To her utmost credit the woman did not flinch his hands eased over her skin fearful at any moment she might melt like his dream mother, away into the rain. Shuddering suddenly reminded that one day his little human would melt back into the mud to be eaten by the worms. She was so fragile like spun glass holding the brightest of flames, the harbinger of light. Short-lived lightening in a bottle he decided as another flash if light and her eyes danced its jagged reflection.

Deafening chaos crashed around the eerily silent pair, quarrelsome lips trembling the Earthling woman moved willingly closer. Wet hair whipping back against a force of rain or perhaps his spiked Ki Vegeta gazes the nude line of her neck. Jarring his body withers burning with some new sensation that has taken his anxiety throne.

Without so much as a tremor, her hands return his touch, with a softness reserved for the most sensitive of microchips she smooths her hand over his cheek pulling him closer. Sayian Pride is forgotten among the inferno that is her presence.

Real. She is real and she is here, the storm encasing this moment ensuring she is his alone. When she touches her delicate fingers to his lip a shuddering gruff sigh escapes heavy lungs, pulling her to him with incredibly slow tenderness.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: Stress

Bulma's eyes hovered over the cover of the glossy tabloid, glaring at the garish red tint of the type.

The cover read:

"HEIRESS MYSTERY HOSPITAL HUNK AND EYEWITNESS SIGHTINGS"

Carelessly flinging it to the side of her elevated perch, the light thudding of impacting paper upon tree branches what followed sounded like a victory to her.

If Vegeta cared about Earth news she was sure he would blow a fuse, and not a household breaker fuse, the kind that powered Bulma's billion Zeni laboratory. Maybe she should show him how the last blown fuse had made for a very interesting, not to mention costly night.

Placing pale hands over her eyes she sighed deeply, Gardena was plastered on another offensively bright cover showcasing a new nose. Her dazzling honker was pulled straight from capsule corps pockets. Not that it was a penny to her wealth, Bulma outside of her families legacies alone was worth all the gold of a dragon horde.

It was her pride that ached the most. She wasn't abashed to admit she had already formulated special shampoos to cause Gardena's hair to shed like a cat's winter coat. Various nanobots to implement unuttered tortures. A wicked smirk crept at the corners of Bulma's lips, being lifted on the Devils strings.

Another soft breath with her lips steady around the joint and a calmness had begun to settle over her, Bulma's nerves being taken away by smoke that escaped her nostrils. Stretching her body out on the rough wood beneath, her hair snagged a board wincing as it was plucked from her head. She had forgotten to bring a blanket to the rickety tree stand, the material made to decay after all not the steels of her lab.

It had been a rough day, moving the new equipment into her lap was stalled by site flooding from the storms. No matter how much she threatened no one could get in touch with their head electrician, which meant tomorrow she was meant to be wiring her new lap alone. Vegeta was having a tough time coming over their completely tame stroking and lip nuzzling during a typhoon so he was avoiding her like the plague. She herself was bleeding like a shot cow because mother nature punished her beauty, Bulma decided vehemently in her mind slamming a hand down so hard onto the plank next to her a splinter lodging into soft human flesh.

Bulma hissed curses to every known deity before she took another drag, a soothing lightness of her mind tugging her into a rich calm. The pulsating pain of the splinter forgotten, instead of digging into the bag at her feet to drag out a small round metal marble. Lazily she leaned back into a comfortable position one arm behind her head after it had tossed the metal sphere into the air. Catching midflight the ball hovered before flaring into life.

Projected screens of her favorite social media sites, blogs, messengers, and entertainment streaming before her. Reaching up she swiftly flicked her wrist the visuals blurring as they spun to display half-completed equations that were stiffening her headway in a current program she was designed to aid the function of a replicated healing chamber.

Vegeta had mentioned them before in passing, the idea rooting itself in her mind like a wayward seed. In idle time she tended to the complicated codes diligently, making long trips at times in search of correct chemical compounds to make up the chambers rejuvenating liquid.

Living organism and bacterias swarmed the tanks syrupy substances. As Bulma's mind ran wild with possibilities and trips needed for materials not available on Earth. The sky dotted with puffy white clouds amongst a brilliant blue warm end of summer rays played on her skin. A Sneaking feel of autumn nipped at her skin, riding the edges of the strong breezes whilst the canopy of starling green leaves shifted endlessly against it.

The heiress paid no attention to the world around her, swept up in the dense maze of her unfathomable mind. Light whispers of sound alluded her, shifting of the boards beneath her given justice to plays of wind. Even the first barking "woman", was ignored fully without so much as a stirring of her eyelids.

Panic crept into Vegeta's chest unwelcome but swift, inhaling the air noting something odd to its taste, pungent. It clung to the woman's clothes smelling too foreign to be the usual sticks of foul-smelling smoke she loved to puff in his face.

Had she been poisoned? She was the wealthiest on this planet, constantly under attack from painfully obvious spies with flashing cameras, lacking appropriate security and bodyguards. He was the Prince of all Saiyan's, mightiest of all warriors in the galaxy and still he was assigned a bodyguard passed on by the power of his name alone. Really the foolish woman's family was too naive, the irony of this berating lost on the Saiyan.

"Woman, you will awaken at once!" His growling scream blasted away flocks of birds from their perches above the leafy canopy their wails of annoyance turning to frantic terror at the high pitched shriek that overtook birds and beast.

Vegeta cupped his hands firmly over his ears expression crumbling to fury as he roared. "Shut!", another sharp inhale, "up!" His face turning red with the violent straining of his vocals.

Bulma did not suffer Vegetas lack of lung capacity when it came to shrill shrieks they were, in fact, a weapon of her own. "WILL YOU STOP SCREAMING AT ME YOU MASSIVE, DWEEB!" Vegeta flinched and clutched his head wide-eyed, stony stare comical if all humans were this capable of ear renting they might stand a chance against him in packs.

"Wait, what are you even doing up here?" Suddenly her whole demeanor shifting, suspicion dawning her expression. "What's broken Vegeta?" It's a whisper promising swift punishment and Vegeta shivers with anticipation. Marveling at how the woman stands suddenly stretching her full height to lurk over him looking down at him contemptuously. The picturesque sky was offensively lackluster in comparison to her whipping locks of turquoise.

"Before you continue your shameful shrieking your flimsy machines are safe." Crossing his arms tightly in defense of his innocence, what small amount he was allowed in the universe. He had been restless. The power outage had really fried the Gravity simulators control panel, his disgruntled mood was in no way soothed when it appeared the woman's sire would be producing the repairs. "Your services are required for the maintenance to the chamber and yet here you are, lazing in a plant!"

Bulma rolled her eyes so hard she feared they may get stuck rolled over on their whites. "Listen here, you bozo! I am no your slave! My father is doing those repairs because of thanks to someone! I am busy with my brand spanking new lab!" letting the B pop on her lips she flicks her wrist at the hovering screen as the equation glows in the air between them. "Now, be a dear and go back to your sulking, so I can concentrate."

Something akin to actual rage starts to filter onto his facial expression before it crumbles staring at the equation before him and noticing floating to the left header of the screen are the small letters labeling, "Regen. Tank" his eyes narrowing dangerously on the text.

"What is this woman?" reaching out a hand Vegeta swats at the hologram irritated the screen of light obscures his view from the Earthling capturing his complete attention. "It's an equation, you dolt."

Inhaling sharply Vegeta squints his stony eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose tightly between his fingers. "Obviously you daft droll wench! Do not make me out to be a fool unable to use the most base common sense!"

"I am not daft Vegeta! I am in fact a bonafide genius. Hello, I designed a weapon to lay you on your ass for fun, imagine what I could do if you pissed me off." Her tone is jovial, absent of sniding offense Vegeta wants to take her by the hand then. Not to declare romantic love but to demand she show him, drag her to the bowels of the labs she'd chosen as her battleground. Marvel among her specific brand of chaos.

Before he can yank her into a fray she straightens and swirls her finger against the projected screen, summoning blueprints and 3D models of sleek pods. Moving closer even though his sight is flawless he scrutinizes's the work. Realization dawns upon his stupefaction.

"So you hope to replicate something you know nothing of?" Sounding bored he waved his hand around the image, intending to disperse it. Ignorant of his whims the projection stubbornly stays alight.

"Hope? Excuse me, I know I am. No more patching you up in the infirmary and bribing doctors to deal with your bad attitude." Mistaking the heiresses words as an insult the Prince grumbles a warning, head turning, arms contracting tighter to his breast. "Plus, when you finally go gold I want somewhere Goku can recover where he won't be crying about needles instead of recovering from his royal butt whopping."

Startled Vegetas neck cracked he cast his gaze on her so quickly. Roaring in his veins was a prime confidence, it made him feel reckless strong enough to cripple the entire Cold empire on an empty stomach. Bristling pleasantly, chest swelled like a peacock, lofting the side of his mouth with a genuine smirk. "When I am done with him there will be nothing left for you to regrow." Carelessly Bulma shrugged turning her back to the Saiyan to avoid the sunlight dimming her view as the shiver of intrusive light quivered. Flashing him a PR wide smile from over her shoulder with a pert flick of her long locks turning attention to the screen that followed her as a lurking shadow. Fingers scrolling through her notes idly now.

Suspicion of her telepathy with machines flickered in Vegeta's mind on more than one occasion, now it burned.

"Hmph, well then you had better start being nice to me so I'll keep helping you." Idly Bulma began to scroll through some plans for the upcoming generation of battle droids, it had forefronted in her mind.

From behind her came, "Why?" Caked in ambivalence and dripping suspicion his face scrunching against the sound.

"Because, your highness I just am."

Solemn silence yawned around them invaded solely by ruffling leaves. Ruining all Bulmas logical guesses for how he was sure to respond Vegeta willingly spoke next. "Why are you here?"

Idly, the heiress wondered if interrogations were a Saiyan trait because Vegeta and Goku both asked the way too many questions at the most inappropriate of times. She knows it's a fair question, but still, this was supposed to be her relaxing moment of the day.

"It's where I come to think, and it's dry." Feeling him moving close she bites her lower lip sensing his warmth blocking whips of wind. Wayward bird of a pulse flies away from her, memories of the night before to vivid and real.

"I broke my leg here when I was little and was scared to come back"

The invading warmth becomes still, so near a slight lean of her heels no doubt she will be pressed to every firm muscle of his chest. "It was going to be a tree house but after my leg breaking I got scared and asked my father to stop. I had nightmares all the time about falling when I was in my cast." Fingers swipe the screen playing along its settings for the correct icon. "I wasn't very old maybe eight or nine and I remember so perfectly the moment when I realized I wasn't having nightmares about falling! I was having the dreams because I was scared of always being afraid, the dreams weren't really about my fall but letting that moment become a moment, you know?" Another slash of the finger and there hovering before them is a young girl rather sunburned along her cheeks and nose long aqua tresses in two french braids standing mighty and proud atop a shorter tree their current perch. Giving the victory sign as she grins. "So, I climbed up this stupid tree the day my cast was removed."

Her parents hadn't been there but she had taken these pictures to email them the proof. Showing Vegeta it made her feel silly after all a broken leg and tumble from a nest isn't exactly heart wrenching in comparison to his past. Feeling suddenly awkward Bulma tenses her shoulders searching for the warmth of her afraid he might have left mid-speech.

Then it happened she stepped back and the hard outline of his chest pressed against her every curve. Vegeta tensed and Bulma for a moment became unsure but a deep rumble that vibrated her spine eased flight or fight. Willing canary to the cat she thought dryly, his massive bulk unmoving as the two stood staring out into the shifting lazy bristling branches.

Dry-mouthed and wild-eyed Bulma began to twist her neck the need to understand him burning through her scientific mind. Needing to unveil the secrets of the Princely egnima, aching to gaze into black eyes like the void of space with her earthly blue.

"Vegeta." How far away she sounds doesn't escape her, it plays along with her frantic pulse and sweating palms. Every fiber of her veins yearning to touch more to bleed out into him and search his being.

Goosebumps flare along her skin with a ragged dragging of dry lips along the exposed flesh of her shoulder. The dry skin of his mouth rough and welcome, a brief flash of teeth, the rumbling was louder now turning violent in baritone growls. Bulma curled her hands to stop the frantic shaking, she wanted this Saiyan to devour her whole and yet he controlled himself.

Control felt odd like stinging rejection to the Briefs daughter, hissing "Vegeta", as sharp canines nipped devilishly. Manicured nails sank into the Saiyan's skin, only to be met with a throaty barking laugh as Vegeta murmured something very akin to Saiyan in her ear.

Shrieking music blasted away the unholy calm between them, heated breathing pounding hearts as her body just begins to melt into his. Going instantly stiff Bulma launched out a hand to silence the noise but Vegeta had already jumped away expression twisted as he held back the coiled urge to retreat. He would never.

Turning Bulma fully meant to confront him only to be once again jarred by the ringing of her holographic screen. The now 3-D image of her lawyer Greta with the words, "get out of jail free card" circling the projected woman's torso. Sighing apologetically she cast Vegeta a pointed look hoping he could decipher her unhappiness at being interrupted as much as his own before slightly twitching her index finger.

A stern looking Greta appeared looking impossibly tense, the raven black hair reminding Bulma of the Saiyan behind her who was staring fixedly at the invader with plain hostility. The professional woman easily ignored the glowering prince they had met before on a couple occasions to try and help Bulma explain Earth laws to the Saiyan.

The key ones being, you can't throw someone's car with them in it into a river because he honked at you for standing in the road ranting about distracting contraptions, nor could he challenge police responding to battles to the death. Vegeta intensified his scathing look at the revolt he felt at being told one could not simply kill their enemies here, he however still did not accept these laws. Only tolerating the "advice" because the woman had promised a "swift and explosiony" end to the gravity room.

The suited woman's expression crumbled into exasperation as she bent her elbows to lean over the surface served as her prop and blurted, "Yamcha knows, we don't know where the leak came from." Bulma stiffened her spine elongated with the attentiveness of her posture a plain sounding 'explain' rolling off her tongue without her knowledge.

"He got in contact with your secretary, raving that your work number was blocked. The instructions were to contact me or you. She only just called to tell me. I'm going to rip that hospital staff to tiny pieces, I promise Bulma. I'll find the leak and make sure this is contained. We've blocked his cell and stopped his social media uploads from posting live, we'll comb everything. We have to find him and calm him down and make sure his mouth stays shut! He could set us back Mrs. Briefs." Toward the end she had calmed, reverting to formal referral when talking business, ignoring the ache at seeing her must frustrating but respected employer sees her failure. Bulma nodded swallowing as her mind drifted, inward panic listlessly tiding in her chest. From behind her, a guffaw caught her attention as Vegeta interrupted her external breakdown. "Don't bother looking for him. He's here."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 15: Strength

Heated wind blasted Bulmas person recoiling as her arms fly up to shield her eyes from the littering debris. Vegeta was gone, exiting on the edge of awkward silence that followed the breaking sound barrier. Yamcha was never much compared to kid Goku and paled a lowly insect to the Sayains, a runner-up to three human fighters and without distinction among his peers. However, compared to the usual human he was superior and compared to Bulma in strength a warrior. Bulma, however, was a warrior in her own, tilting her head to meet the blast of wind. Grappling and wrapping her pride and anger around her wounded soul like the tattered shield it held to be.

Yamcha held the face of twisted rage and it seeped from him like aired poison. Bulma clicked her tongue soundly against the roof of her mouth, setting her expression into annoyance. "Excuse me Yamcha but didn't I inform security you weren't to be all-"

"Shut up! Just shut your mouth!" He was in front of her in a moment lines of his face itched heavily with restraint veins along his neck pulsating with each strained syllable. "You don't get to bitch at me after-"

"You will not talk to me that way!" Her fragile foot stomping against the weathered plants beneath, the dull sound startling her strutting heartbeat at his flared ki. "Do I need to remind you where you are and just who you're talking to bandit boy?!" Fueling all she has learned from herself and Vegeta into the snarling response.

Yamcha recoils at her viciousness but the heated wraith won't be contained for so long before he has taken a step forward intent to confront the blue-haired human. "So what you can terminate our whole relationship because I make a mistake and the moment I want answers I'm the bad guy?!" Yamcha doesn't usually yell unless it's in fear but he is matching her volume for once the ki he is projecting heating her skin as her legs take another step back to escape the scalding aura. "Yamcha, I can explain I really did think I was making the best decision." The hesitancy in her voice causes the tips of her shoulders to curve inward. A signal of her emotional defeat at his rage. Bulma knows he is right, no matter her own anger and betrayal she should have told him and as she opens her lips to say so her aqua eyes snap closed against the heat of her ex-lovers skin. He was never the best at control ki, his ki blast could be dangerously untamed and his mastership over the heated energy untrustworthy.

He was too close, with a swipe of her hand her metal ball became lifeless mindlessly catching it as her shaking hands hid as fist around the marble-sized gadget. "I'm not going to have this conversation until you can calm down bub!"

"You got knocked up Bulma! You got knocked up and had the fucking balls to refuse to forgive me for just a fling!"

Rage is all she remembers as the fear makes a hasty retreat shrieking inches from his face with a chocking force. "Are you shitting me you idiot, I can't help I got pregnant I said use a condom!" "You couldn't help-YO-?! Slut!" She will not show her fear to him, she refuses as her pulse ticks rapidly at his invasion of her space his ki turning her pale skin red.

There are tears in the corners of her eyes as her cheeks burn but she refuses to allow them to spill. "Yamcha I had to make a choice!" It's a sickening mixture of rage, fear, shame, and betrayal and it's thick in her blood as she stands on her toes attempting to cause him to back away.

"So you choose to get pregnant by the man who murdered me Bulma!" The flare of energy exploded nothing but heated light enough to have the drumming of her pulse now a wild frantic thumping of impending seared flesh and blistered bone. Stumbling backward to evade the unbalanced fluctuation of Ki the constant banging of her heart turned into a deafening staccato as gravity pulled her downward tumbling from the side of the half-finished tree house. Screaming her eyes went wide and with a horrible slam of her body, she felt a heavily thick branch snap against the delicate span of her flesh. "VEGETA!" Knocking the wind from her fragile chest in a huff.

The name of the Sayain Prince falling flat as she slid from the branch to hit violently on another, pounding agony thrummed along the bones of her skull. Tumbling from the broad surface of the oak, bracing herself for the next impact. It all happened within the time frame of a few split seconds and the blur of pain and weightless falling spilled out into rough hands around her waist and soft depositing of her dazed weight upon the ground.

Yamcha stood over her breathing raggedly, his face split into a show of horror at the condition of the woman below him. Battering aside Bulma wobbly made it to her feet her lips twisted into a nasty scowl. "Bastard!" Spraying spittle and blood into the air as she wipes the hot liquid away with the curve of her hand, hunched over only to straighten with her voice.

"Weak, spineless." She wants it to hurt, the agony playing out over the warriors features is priceless satisfaction compared to the grating thrills of pain throughout her body which she finds are serving as excellent fuel for this rabid rage. "It wasn't his baby…it was yours." Spit clings to the corner of her swelling mouth, striking out at him with a swing of her arm into the air, wanting to wipe every blurry Yamcha that wavered before her vision away from existence.

Guilt evaporated from were it whispered along her sympathy which bled out in the crimson that smeared along the pale span of her flesh as her bloodied hand points to the meager human male. Fear is gone it has been crushed along with what she estimates is at least one rib and nothing remotely akin to forgiveness is on her tongue. "I should have left you to burn in that damn desert." In place of painful betrayal Yamcha instead is swallowing back a building fear, Bulma is staggering slicken in her own blood. Left breast bulging above her top nearly jutting its way from the fabric, hair tangled with an array of plant life. Blood and droll down her chin as her red painted teeth snarled nastily. "Leave!" her shrieking volume causes the pitched squeal in her own ears to intensify another swing of her bruised arm is too much for the male.

He stumbles back this woman is dangerous, she is broken and angry, Yamcha knows in this rage she will attack him with every droid in the capsule corp labs, she would try to beat him to death herself and although only a small fluctuation in his Ki has brought her here, he knows that she will drag him to hell to make him pay.

Goku was the strength behind her temper as younger children, Goku and her mind split the red ribbon army to its core. Bulma has always been the sun casting its glow on those around her, nourishing their strength, but their fear of her lurked somewhere in instinct and his sounds remarkably like Paurs small voice urging him to run. Dejected, the human male draws the ki from the air around him tucking it in the smalls of his feet with what little grace he can summon he flees for the cover of the clouds.

On the ground, the heiress sweeps her tear-filled vision across the grassy area around her spotting a glinting in the swaying blades her unsteady feet trudge toward her prize. Capturing it between slicken fingers she tosses it weakly. Flaring to life in its brilliance her staggered form swings her hand out summoning the picture of Greta, the call is answered immediately a holograph standing pristine cradling what appears to be another phone in her hand.

"Miss Briefs I was just about to inform you the hospital sta-Oh Miss Briefs!" Before Greta can launch into an interrogation, something Bulma cannot take from a lawyer at the present moment her hand shoots up to silence her.

"Greta tell me." Wheezing she clutches beneath her rib cage and gently her fingers begin to crawl along her flesh prodding the sensitive bones to find the heart of this growing agony.

Greta eyes the heiress unsure her body turned in the direction of the blue CC logoed phone for security, instead of turning back to Bulma with hands tucked behind her back to still there shaking. Being a vegan blood is not something the other woman must be familiar with she thinks without humor, Greta's voice drowning out her inner attempts at humor. "I called the hospital a nurse in the registration department received a deposit of 30,000 from an off-shore account, most likely the leak to the tabloids, right? No, see the tabloids got their information from a tip -off who called with a burn phone and had money wired to them through a variety of accounts. I traced those back to the name of a former assistant who worked at CC for your mother, where she is now

employed as personal assistant to Miss Gardenias aunt, a Mrs. Larkspur." throughout the explanation Bulma barley can hear the woman over the shattering beat of her heart rate increasing, her rage turning into something far cruller. There has been someone actively working against her name, wanting to bring her to her knees and now they have the worst possible information. It will only be a matter of time before they try to get it out to the public for another payout. Yamcha may have been the last crumbling stone fortifying her good reputation after all. The thought of his name brings about a wave of fresh emotion that she spits out onto the ground in the form of phlegm. "Whatever Capsule has to do, erase this information. I will personally hack every medical database and newsreel, every person related to this needs to be kept quiet. Move legally against Gardenia, also the nurse, we don't want them to go to trial it's too public. Write them checks. " More than once it has played throughout her brilliant mind that she is, in fact, royalty on this earth. Every housing capsule, every car, energy, whole world's economy depends on capsule corp, and if one little wilting Gardenia thinks that she can cause her empire to crumble they are fools. If the mood ever struck her she is sure she would make anyone on this planet disappear and not one person would stand against her family. The world had too much to lose if her father and herself were taken out of the picture, this she would count on.

Moving her hand, she abruptly ended the call when Greta began to drop the legality and instead inquire about her bodies status. Wincing the heiress moved Greta's icon and instead remotely activated her hoverbike, there would be no way she was walking to the infirmary, doing so wouldn't kill her but it was a strain she was sure her body wouldn't mind skipping out on. Waiting for the hum of her bike to make its way to the far side of the compound her body slid down the rough bark of the Oak. Lifting her head up trying to peek the boards of the hidden platform that nested in its upper branches. Another scowl left her with a heated rush of air, those stupid branches had done a number on her. Maybe it was time to have this menace to her health cut down and made into pencils.

A low peaceful hum was buzzing in her ears and as the dozing heiress cracked them open against the million man marching band waltzing through her skull a small smile graced her split mouth at the sight of her savior. Hovering a few inches off the ground in a steady idle dressed all in blue, Remote Hover Bike 593. Mounting it was painful moving anything was like ripping the paper that had become her soft bones, driving uncharacteristically slow she pressed a hand onto her rib swallowing a growing lump in her throat as the infirmary came into view she would allow herself a hard sob later but never in front of her staff.

Dinner was perhaps Mrs. Briefs most favorite meal of the day, she was able to get away with three or even four courses without complaint. The family all say down together some nights when one of her geniuses wasn't holed away somewhere, and the praise for her hard work at the end was always a pep in her step. Tonight, however, was not turning out the way that she had ever imagined.

Dr. Briefs her husband had been five minutes late a trait unlike him for dinner and her daughter had shown up with horribly unattractive bruises refusing to try the roast in protest of her jaw was to sore! The guest of the house, the sexy man who always loved whatever she prepared hadn't even shown up at all, leaving fifty pounds of roast and 80 pounds of grilled chicken to sit on the table completely untouched and woefully cold.

The elderly scientist was fixedly picking out every piece of celery from his potato salad, mumbling to the small black kitten clinging to his lap chewing idly on a stray nibble of meat. Intense state of injury to his daughters well beings was completely unnoticed not only by himself but his doting wife as well. Too busy mourning the failed state of her dinner to question the wheezing of Bulma's breathing no matter how unattractive those bruises she knew that the temper tantrum that followed pointing them out were not going to save this dinner. But perhaps lemon cake and zucchini bread could.

Not long after the ditzy blonde had exited her husband stood abruptly, the startled black feline being expertly caught by Bulma's father in what seemed a well known returned. "Your right kitty, I think a new decelerator coil is just what it needs!" Disappearing into the hallway leaving the daughter alone to wheeze on her plate with a dutiful smile to her lips. "I see where I get it." She thinks with a grin pulling at the corner of her lips since earlier in the day, maybe she should have saved her roach.(1)

Vegeta walked into the kitchen with his nose twitching the scent of something deveins, but sickly familiar, casting his gaze to the mass of food in approval. The bloom of satisfaction withered in his chest at the hinting sound of a rattling chest, brow furrowing ever so slightly behind a stony expression. The damage he had seen on many others looked decrypted and vulgar on her pale skin, the curve of her cheek blackened and bottom lip split colored with a drying scab. Usually proud arch of her back hunkered at the shoulders one arm curled to cradle the no doubt broken ribs from the lumpy patches beneath her shirt. The cerulean curtain of hair hid her expression from the male but he was thankful for this because he feared what he may do upon seeing it. A sickly heat slicked down his neck as his fist shook, something inside of him threatened to burn the poor man alive and like a switch, the sound of her voice drew his energy in a moment.

"I've never seen dinner last so long in front of you." If it weren't for the tilt of her grin the way her chin lifted as if to challenge him to be next his heart fluttered. "Sit down tough guy." Moving stiffly like walking through the thickness of fever dream that singed the neurons of his mind which desperately communicated with him to tear asunder the male who dared, who dared to touch her. She was not his however, she belonged to no one and certainly, he did not care, but his fingers twitched at his side no longer able to hold his arms across his chest before rigidly taking a seat. Movements deliberate and slow to make his plate for fear he would forget how flimsy earth materials were and destroy it all without meaning too. He couldn't look at her it made his insides feel slickened with betraying hot oil.

"He comes back. Do me a favor and remove him?" She asks her eyes catching his as she sends him a grin, her fingers curling around her fork as she feels suddenly she has an appetite. "If I confront him, I'll kill him." It hurts to chew but the food taste wonderfully on her copper tinged tongue as she catches Vegeta's brief flash of approval, her heart fluttering. His shoulders relaxed suddenly and he began to shovel fork full of chicken into his mouth with a renewed haste leaning over to offer her plate a larger portion of the protein as well.

1 (Roach is slang for the very end of a blunt.)


End file.
